


Shadowfaces

by mercyandmagic



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Child Soldiers, Eldian Restorationalists, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Friendship, Hope, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Parent-Child Relationship, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Privilege, Racism, Romance, Spying, moral quandaries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 11:42:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 64,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8577121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercyandmagic/pseuds/mercyandmagic
Summary: Ilona's attempts to redeem her privileged Marley life eventually uncover not just a tragic story, but a rising rebellion and an Eldian spy she can't forget. Kruger/OC. Grisha/Dina. Updates on Wednesdays.





	1. Chapter 1

_Chapter One_

**Spoilers for Chapters 86 and beyond. :)**

Ilona shivered awake to the yelps of dogs. But as much as she detested the sounds, she was grateful for the noise. She’d almost overslept.

Her clothes she’d hidden inside her mattress, the clothes that could get her killed. Not that anyone suspected. But if they did.

Her disguise was as threadbare as her stained pants, but it was all she had. A loose jacket to hide her chest, or at least keep perverts from chasing her. A cap to hold her springy curls. She looked like a street rat, a pureblooded street rat.

She tiptoed downstairs and into the kitchen. Though she really ought to have done this before falling asleep, many years of raiding sweets as a child had prepared her for moments like these.

Not that she’d ever imagined herself in these scenarios.

Ilona snuck back upstairs to her room, one hand full with dried meat, and crawled into her fireplace.

Clouds hid the moon. There was no one about to see a small figure shimmy out a chimney in one of Marley’s wealthiest districts.

No one but the dogs, that is. And she quieted them as usual, with half the meat she’d stolen.

When she first began these missions, she used to nibble on the meat herself. But by now, she’d long lost her appetite. Thankfully, she’d yet to encounter a dog that had.

 

Kruger had long learned to hate Sergeant Major Gross’s dogs, especially on these night missions.

He half-expected one night to end with Gross siccing the wretched beasts on him. The restorationalists were growing, the plan to infiltrate Marley’s child soldier program was underway, and they were so close he couldn’t help but expect disaster.

He’d never won in his life, so why should he expect different now?

“Hope something happens tonight,” said Gross between puffs on a cigarette.

“Hmm.” Kruger eyed his partner as he tapped ashes onto the cobblestones below their boots.

“You know, you’re a bit of an enigma.”

“Why, because I’d rather not be bothered by petty criminals?” Kruger inhaled.

“Because you’re always the same. Boring as hell, whether we’re sleep-deprived or drunk as fuck with the rest.” Gross chuckled.

One of the dogs stopped short, and Kruger’s heart sank.

“You notice something, boy?” Gross rubbed the dog’s head.

One of them yipped.

“Yes!” Gross pumped his fist. “Lead on!”

And Kruger had no choice but to follow.

 

“You’re late.”

Ilona glared at the bearded, barrel-chested man before her. “Barely.”

“Still late,” the man said affably, offering her a cigarette.

“Back to Liberio?” Ilona shook her head. If her parents smelled smoke on her, she might as well take her own life.

“Yeah.” Jack chewed on the end of a cigarette. Ilona had never known him to light one. She theorized that he only bought cigarettes to have something in his mouth, but he wouldn’t tell her why. He wanted her to watch him, to figure him out herself. Like a good journalist would.

“Every month these two go on night duty. Guess how frequently Eldians die these nights.”

“Almost every one, I’m guessing.” Ilona pulled her father’s binoculars from her jacket pocket. “These ought to help us.”

“Binoculars, huh. Wish I’d thought of that myself.” Jack led his protégé through the shadows.

 

Kruger cursed under his breath. A child, a child with an armband like any dutiful child, was huddled by the baker’s across the street from the Liberio Internment Zone.

“You!” Gross shouted.

The boy gasped. A loaf of bread flew from his hand.

He’d already broken in. Kruger swallowed. He was beyond saving.

 _I’m sorry_ rose in his throat, but he’d long stopped apologizing. This was the price he paid. Funny how much he wanted to apologize now that he couldn’t.

 

“Is that a child?” Ilona’s voice rose.

“Shh.” Jack grabbed the binoculars from her. “Yeah.”

He handed them back to her. “I told you, we can’t be caught. We gotta catch ‘em in the act. Once they know someone’s onto them, our story is finished. The corruption continues.”

“But the act may involve dogs eating a child.”

“Sacrifice is necessary.” Jack scribbled on his papers as the taller of the soldiers knocked the kid back. “I don’t like it either.”

 _Life isn’t the pristine fairy tale you knew_ , Ilona warned herself.

 

“Please, cry all you want. You don’t have papers, you face punishment.” Gross sniffed.

“But I was just trying to escape my dad. He’s mad and he hurts my mom,” sobbed the boy.

“Then why steal?” Kruger demanded, never afraid to be harsh before Gross. It was the only chance the boy had.

“Because I wanted to make my mom feel better.” The boy wiped his impossibly round eyes. “It isn’t fair.”

“An Eldian stealing from a Marleyan once again. That’s what’s unfair,” Gross replied.

 

“Please don’t hate me,” said Ilona as the dogs inched closer.

“What?”

 

“Just hurt me and be over it,” said the boy dejectedly.

Gross’s eyes gleamed. But Kruger always seemed to beat him to the punishment, damn him and his boring flavors of violence –

The boy cried out as Kruger’s knee collided with his chest.

Countryman beating countryman…oppressed beating the oppressed… It never ended, did it?

“What’s going on?” A voice rang out through the streets.

Kruger spun around, and Gross seized the change to latch onto the boy. His prey wasn’t going anywhere.

A young woman strode forward. Though she was dressed as a street urchin, her confident tone and posture spoke otherwise.

“None of your business, whore,” snarled Gross. “Get back.”

Whores didn’t frequent this area. Because even proximity to Liberio, proximity to an Eldian, could sully them. Even prostitutes had their honor.

The woman took another step forward, her golden eyes burning in the dull light of the lampposts. “Is it not? Really, I consider everything my business.”

Gross scowled at her.

She tossed dried meat to the dogs. They devoured it and whined for more.

She’d planned this. Kruger watched her carefully.

“Hurting a child? Dear, I don’t think you want to do that.” She tilted her head. A sweet smile bloomed on her face. “Oh, I’m sure Mayor Minsk would be fascinated to learn what sordid business his officers are up to.”

“I hardly think the Mayor would listen to the likes of you,” scoffed Gross, yanking the boy’s collar.

She raised her eyebrows. “I think he would. And not just him. I especially think the newspapers would love a dark tale. I think this whole city would. And we all know they’d make you the villain, no matter their audience lapping it up.”

The woman stepped closer, inches from Gross’s face. Her voice was sweet and lilting, and very, very sickening. “You’ll be everyone’s whipping boy. I shouldn’t be surprised if they parade you naked through the streets, with your fat ass and balls out for everyone to see. And you know everyone would love it, because then they’ll get to congratulate themselves for pitying their Eldian neighbors for once – because they’re such good, generous hearts, right? All I have to do is scream.”

Her face glowed. Kruger had no doubt she itched to follow through. But he knew better than to pray for Gross’s wisdom. “Who are you?”

            Her eyes met his. “Not a whore.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Very well: I’m someone with more connections than you. I assure you.”

They glared at each other.

“What do you want?” growled Gross.

Her hand clamped onto the boy’s shoulder. “Let go of him.”

Gross dropped his hands. “You know, it’s idiot Marleyans like you that keep us in danger. You think this boy’s cute and tiny – well, he’ll grow into a menace like the rest of them!”

“I think he’s not the menace I see tonight.”

“What will happen to the baker’s store? Or to him for breaking out of camp?”

“You’ve already frightened him half to death, and since I’m sure you’ve met Baker Lenin, you should know he almost deserves it.” She dipped her head. “Sergeants, good night.”

“We should arrest you for breaking curfew,” declared Kruger, noting the anger in Gross’s eyes. He might shoot both in another moment; fighting her was all the hope she had.

“Arrest me?” she smirked. “Well, wouldn’t be the first time.”

“I doubt you can discredit the both of us,” Kruger replied. “No matter your connections.”

“Oh?” Her eyes raked Kruger up and down. “Well, then, let’s forgo my connections. We’re still left with you two.”

“Your partner’s an insecure sadist – should be easy enough to prove, right? I’m sure if I traced his records, I’d find more than enough to disgrace the both of you. And as for you, my dear, you’re…attracted to me. I think I’m safe.”

“What?” Kruger spluttered. That wasn’t it at all –

“Isn’t it?” Her eyes lingered on his trousers for a moment, just long enough to stun him. And then she was sauntering away, pushing the boy in front of her.

 

“Direct me to your home, kid.” Ilona shuddered with adrenaline amidst the cramped streets of Liberio Interment Zone.

The skinny boy glanced back to the desolate gate. “What if they hurt you?”

She bit back a smirk. “I can look out for myself.”

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Ilona.” _Don’t get attached_ , Jack had said. Oops. “And you?”

“I’m Tiberius. We go left.” The child stopped in front of a derelict cottage. The smell of trash permeated her senses. Even in Liberio, Tiberius dwelt among the worst. “This place.”

“Well, Tiberius.” Ilona knelt in front of him. “You be safe, and next time you need to hide…just, don’t escape Liberio.”

“I know the consequences.” His little shoulders slumped. “I think I wanted them to find me.”

Ilona’s eyes widened and her voice cracked. “No, no, no. All right, you know what?”

“What?”

“I misjudged you. Next time you need to hide, don’t. You’ve dealt with thoughts worse than any fear.”

“I have?” She recognized the shame in his eyes.

“I promise.” She squeezed his hand. Mom’s shadowed eyes, her pale face after staying inside for days… “I’m sneaky. I’ll be watching over you. I promise.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Ilona had no idea how to keep her promise, but she knew making this promise was good. She just had to figure out how.

Her heart ached as the boy trudged inside. She wanted to bring him back home with her. Maybe if she took off the armband, kept him from the rest –

But what would his family say? Perhaps his mother loved him.

Ilona moaned.

“Well, I hope your conscience is happy.”

She leapt to her feet. “Jack!”

“Yeah, of course I followed you. You fall, I go down with you. I don’t expect you’d last a minute in their interrogation rooms, you know.”

“That’s unfair!” Ilona glowered at him. Just because she was cultured – rich, fine – she was still strong.

Or was she? She looked at the house as voices echoed again. Angry voices.

“I hope you’re done playing savior.”

She gestured towards the house. Tiberius’ home. “Does that sound like salvation?”

“Look here, girl.” Jack shook her by the shoulders. Silver light crawled beyond the horizon. “Shit, is that dawn? We’ve got to get you home.”

“But –”

“Ilona, don’t be stupid _and_ foolish tonight. I only have the patience for one at a time.” Jack tugged her away. She was too tired to resist, but oh, it felt wrong to leave the child. “Look about the gate. Any guards?”

She shrugged. “None except the one still asleep in the gatehouse.”

“Nah, he don’t count.”

“Then no one.”

“Then let’s go.” Jack shoved her into the nearest alley. “I hope losing a story was worth it to you!”

“But we haven’t.”

“Not yet.” He jabbed his plump finger into her face. “We don’t know the full ramifications of your actions.”

“I don’t legally work for you. They didn’t even recognize me; they certainly won’t connect us.” Her voice intensified. “But, Jack, we’re working on this story to stir up Eldian sympathizers. They’re being abused!”

“Of course we are. But we need to stop our sympathies and sacrifice a few to get the big picture and stop them. We dedicate ourselves to the mission, not to our own whims and conscience.”

“Can you really sleep knowing you let a child die?”

“If one child’s death saves a hundred others?”

Ilona glanced sideways at him as they scaled a tree to shortcut their way to the city’s zenith. “I don’t believe that.”

“You don’t have to. Just act as if you did.” Pain shimmered off Jack’s countenance.

As last, they stood outside her home, marble wrought gates and finally silent dogs. “I understand if you don’t want to see me again.”

“You’re the most savvy writer I’ve had. I’m not about to lose you – but you’ll lose yourself if you don’t start caring less.” Jack stepped back, his friendly father face intact again. “Think on that, Ilona.”

And think on it she did, as she climbed the vines onto the roof, as she shimmied down her chimney, as she donned again her nightgown.

 

Kruger was sleep deprived and cranky when day broke, but very relieved to forfeit Gross’s gross company.

As he stomped back to military headquarters, a zeppelin rose in the sky.

 _I’m sorry_ , he thought, as he did every time. There was something about the first child. He couldn’t forget her. Her, he apologized to. Only her.

Did her family remember? He had to wonder.

As the light washed his graying hair and tired eyes, he found himself praying for himself. Himself, not her. He should pray for many others, but sometimes he felt so damned he could only ask for help for himself.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Major Stein blocked his entrance.

“To get some damned sleep.”

“We’ve an issue. Reports of two unauthorized individuals sneaking out of Liberio around sunrise. You were on night duty – _you_ clean up this mess.” Stein shoved an officer’s statement into Kruger’s hands.

“I see.” _Two_ \- the woman had gone in – had she taken the kid out? He’d kill her. The last thing he needed was more Eldians posing as Marleyans. That was _his_ job, dammit.

“Did you notice anything suspicious in your rounds last night?”

“Nothing.” Just the sleeping guard, but Gross hadn’t wished to awaken a witness to his crimes.

“Well. I’d suggest you start with the guard’s statement and go from there. Mayor Minsk just announced an Eldian relief program. We can’t allow them to take advantage of us!”

“I see.” Kruger did not like changes he didn’t orchestrate.

“And, er, Sergeant Major Gross has a family emergency arise, so you’ll be alone.” Stein’s tone was at least apologetic. Everyone knew his “emergency” likely involved a need for sleep and maybe fucking his wife.

“I’m not surprised.” Kruger followed his shrug with a salute. Just another day, just another traitor’s salute.

 

When Ilona awoke, panic set in. Had she really mouthed off to two suspects? She ought to ensure they not wreck her story. Jack’s story.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” she growled as she hopped into her favorite lilac dress.

“Lady Ilona?” A maid tapped on the door.

“Yes, open – I mean, you can open, Sophia.” Ilona smiled dutifully.

“Your father wishes to see you immediately.”

“Of course.” She hurried downstairs to the family parlor. Pale light streamed in enormous windows overlooking blooming, fragrant flowers. “Father, is something the matter?”

“Goodness.” Mom gasped. “You look tired. Are you not sleeping?”

“Sometimes I prefer to daydream than to dream, that’s all.” Ilona flashed a smile at her mother. “Don’t worry. It was my own fault.”

“Ilona,” said her father with a smile. “Awhile ago you petitioned for us to assemble food and clothing for the Eldian unfortunates.”

“Oh.” Ilona blinked. “Two months ago, I believe.”

And Father’d dismissed it. So she’d joined Jack’s story. Because before she married off some Marleyan officer and lived a dutiful life, she was determined to change something.

“Yes. Well, I’ve raised the issue with the council – it’s not popular, you know. But you’ll be pleased to know a hundred years of relative peace has convinced _most_ of the council at least some of those devils are good, after all.”

“I can help organize aid for the Eldians?” Ilona interrupted.

Perhaps this was good. Perhaps she could work more for Jack by interviewing those who’d lost to Gross and Kruger –

“Indeed. But you’ll be careful. I want you to be in the presence of guards at all times.” Father’s eyes filled with pride. “You really are such a good soul, Ilona.”

 _But would you say that if you knew_? Ilona dismissed the thought and threw her arms around her father. She could return to Liberio. She could watch over Tiberius _and_ work on Jack’s story.

Life was beautiful.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ilona's drive to follow through leads her towards a second encounter with Kruger - as both of them hunt each other.

Chapter Two

**Content warning: domestic abuse.**

 

            Kruger had a scowl on his face as he shoved his way through Liberio. Cramped streets flooded with chitchatting people who ought to hate him, or at the very least fear him.

The people who didn’t fear him scared him. He didn’t want to know how far he’d go if they discovered his identity.

In fighting monsters, he’d become one. And whom exactly was he fighting for?

He found Private Lenin lounging about in Werner’s pastry shop, across from the gate.

“I see you’re rather concerned about our dangerous escapees.”

Lenin coughed and sat up straight. Beads of sweat appeared on his brow, already wrinkled despite his youth. “I wasn’t sure what else to do.”

“Be a soldier.”

“All due respect, sir, that’s not much advice.”

“And that’s not an excuse.” Kruger dragged Lenin to his feet. “But you can start by wiping off the mud your boots left on the table.”

“N – no, sir, we’ve got it,” said old Mr. Werner, fishing for his glasses.

Always fawning, always dutiful, the Eldians. Kruger expected nothing less, but moments like these – when he could twist ilitary discipline into helping an Eldian – they were all he had.

“No, you don't. Private Lenin does. And I’ll be listening to his account, so you’d best get away from here, Werner.” Kruger jerked his head to the kitchen.

“Of – of course.” Werner wiped his hands on his apron and hurried into the kitchen. He could find something to busy himself.

Immediately after the kitchen door closed, Werner pressed his ear to the wood.

“Two people were spotted escaping last night. I’d like a description, stat.” After a brief survey behind the counter, Kruger plunked a pail of soapy rags before Lenin.

“Yes, sir.” Lenin wrung out the cloth and began wiping. “Um, one was short and the other wasn’t much taller. But he was thicker.”

“How short? Child short?” Why couldn’t he just assume adult and forgo his job? Why did he have to ask the damning questions he damn well knew the answer to?

“Ch – child? N – no,” stammered Lenin. “Like a woman, I thought, but I couldn’t be sure.”

So the thick man…? Kruger’s skin crawled. They did not need Marleyans, reporters or not, poking around in Liberio. “I demand a better description than that.”

“That’s all I have for you, sir,” protested Lenin.

“You dripped.” Kruger nodded at the worn floorboards. “Clean those, too.”

“But we’re even keeping them out of business the longer I clean!”

“Then be a considerate Marleyan and do your job. That includes observation.” Kruger’s eyes narrowed.

Lenin shivered. Gross may be a fool, but he was pliable. His austere partner terrified him.

 

“You’re the town doctor, right?”

“Prison doctor, really,” muttered the young man before her. He turned around, and to her surprise, though he looked a few years older than she, his eyes were as fiery as Tiberius’ has been.

 _So you_ do _resent Marleyans_ , Ilona thought.

His eyes widened when he saw her darker, clearly non-Eldian skin tone. But he didn’t apologize, and Ilona rather liked him for it.

“Can I help you?” Occasionally Marleyan women visited him when they were in desperate circumstances. Grisha hated treating them, but someone had to. And he was legally obligated.

“Do you make house calls?” she asked, to his immediate suspicion.

“I can’t leave Liberio without permission.”

“You’re being awfully presumptive. Not for me. For someone in Liberio. A woman – damn it, I don’t know her name, but her son’s is Tiberius.”

The doctor stared blankly.

“If you follow me, I can direct you to their house. I think she may have been beaten…savagely last night. And perhaps her son, too.” Ilona paced back and forth. “I can pay you. Please don’t charge them.”

“I know Tiberius Castile. He’s quite a troublesome kid.” He’d picked on Zeke, for starters.

Words tumbled from her lips. “He’s troubled because his family hurts each other. He’s thinking about suicide, doctor, uh, Dr. Jaeger, was it?”

Grisha stared at her. “It was. How do you know all this?”

“Tiberius and I crossed paths yesterday,” she said carefully.

“I see.”

He was smart, smarter than she. And he knew it. Ilona lifted her bag of goods to rest on her hip. “Look, I don’t blame you for not trusting a Marleyan.”

Resentment simmered in his gaze.

“But I’m honestly asking you to help your countryman, and a child at that. How is that difficult for you?”

 _The problem isn’t you. It’s having to obey you_ _when you mistake me for a monster,_ he thought. Although he did appreciate how open she was to his pushback. Most Marleyan women snapped their fingers and expected him to jump to their sides.

“Father!” The door flew open and a small blonde boy dashed in, only to freeze at the sight of a fancy lady.

“Zeke, I told you to wait,” Grisha said. But he couldn’t help but mix his beautiful son’s face with Tiberius’, and how could he refuse?

“We apologize,” said a pretty blond woman, grabbing her son’s hand.

“No, no – it’s all right,” Ilona assured. “Your name’s Zeke?”

The boy nodded shyly.

“My name is Ilona.” Ilona dropped to her knees so she could be eye level with him. “Zeke, would you like a present?”

“Yes,” he whispered, glancing at his father, who was too befuddled by this Marleyan’s behavior to notice.

Ilona fished about in her bag for one of the toys she’s purchased for Tiberius. He wouldn’t miss one, and toys wouldn’t solve his problems, anyhow. “Here.”

She held out a silly, furry doll. “Do you like monkeys?”

His eyes lit up. “Yes.”

Father had taught him about monkeys once. He’d asked questions and Father’d been proud of him then.

“What do you say?” the blonde prodded.

“Thank you,” Zeke said soberly.

“Of course,” Ilona said with an easy smile as she stood.

“We should get going now. My medical bag is ready,” Grisha announced awkwardly.

Ilona bit back a sigh of relief. “Yes, thank you.”

“We can talk later,” Grisha told his wife, who nodded.

“I can wait a moment.” She didn’t know if Tiberius or his mother could, but she really hated to intrude as she had.

“It’s not very important,” said the woman. “Not as much as someone ill, at any rate.”

“Thank you for understanding,” Ilona replied, holding out her hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you. I’m Ilona Minsk.”

“Dina Jaeger.” The surprised woman gripped her hand. The mayor’s daughter? The mayor’s daughter didn’t hate Eldians?

Grisha’s head was spinning as he pecked Dina on her lips.

“Thank you,” Zeke called again, wrinkling his nose at his parents.

Ilona chuckled and stepped out into the buzzing street with Dr. Jaeger by her side.

 

Kruger inhaled a cigarette and noted the doctor’s practice on the corner. Better not to let him see him.

But, strangely, a policeman waited outside. The kind of fancy prick only rich Marleyans hired to feel safe from evil Eldian mobs.

Kruger frowned. Could someone have discovered…

No, they couldn’t. And even if they did, they couldn’t trace the doctor to him.

But did he – he didn’t have a plan for this yet. Their capture.

The door opened, and Kruger turned his head back to Werner’s windows, where he could trouble Lenin and spy on the Jaegers.

The doctor stepped out, bag in hand, with a young woman in a purple dress far too fancy for most Eldians. Definitely a Marleyan.

She turned her head in his direction and Kruger’s blood shook. _Her_?!

Was she tracking him down? Or was this all a giant, preposterous coincidence?

She’d seemed well-bred, but this – who _was_ she?

He rapped on the glass, startling Lenin before sticking his head in the door. “I’m off. You’re to finish, or I’ll find out, I assure you.”

“Y-yes, sir.” Lenin gulped.

 

“It’s here.” In the daylight, Ilona noted just how dilapidated their surroundings were, with houses made of splintered wood and cracked, dirty windows. She was lucky she hadn’t been robbed or worse last night.

“I see.” Grisha waited as she knocked on the door.

“Should I wait outside again, my lady?” asked Captain Miller.

“I – I suppose.” Ilona wasn’t unused to having a guard, but they were rather frustrating.

“Who is it?” yelled a man’s voice. The door flew open, and a half-dressed man stumbled back. “What’s you fancies doin’ here?”

Ilona had seen men and woman drunk at parties before, but not to this extent. “Sir, uh, we’re…”

“I know you! Doctor Jeager.” The man pointed wildly at Grisha.

“Yes, he’s here on a doctor’s visit.” Ilona forced a smile.

“I didn’t ashk for no doctor. It’s my wife’s doin’, ain’t it?” His expression twisted, and Ilona’s stomach along with it.

“I’m merely trying to ascertain the health of my Eldian brethren,” said Grisha smoothly.

Ilona shot him a grateful look as she approached who must be Tiberius’s father. “May we come in? I think you, for one, ought to sit down. You look tired.”

“Heh. Tired’s one word for it.” He leant against Ilona. “You look too fine for this part of town.”

Miller entered behind them, unable to trust his charge alone with a drunkard and a genteel Eldian. The stench of urine nearly gagged him.

“Lie down.” Ilona smiled and helped the man into a rickety chair. “What’s your name, sir?”

“Sir! Ain’t nobody called me sir in years.”

“Your name,” Miller said coldly.

“Tiberius Berg,” he said proudly. “Well, ain’t the doctor gonna treat me?”

“You and the rest of your family,” Grisha said. Poor Tiberius Junior. No wonder the child picked on Zeke.

“Eh? Tiberius! Alma! Get out here!” he howled.

Ilona took out her handkerchief and wiped what had to be vomit off the corners of Mr. Berg’s grimy face.

“What’s the matter?” A pinch-faced woman appeared, one eye blackened and her lip split. A toddler peeked out from her skirts.

Behind his mother, Tiberius’ eyes widened in horror when he recognized Ilona.

Grisha had to wonder just how exactly Miss Minsk wanted this done. Dare he ask? Dare he risk anything that might cause him attention?

“What happened to your face?” Miller asked instead, glancing at Ilona. Doubtless this was why she’d chosen this house.

Alma’s hand floated to her lip. “This…don’t worry about it.”

“It’s my job to worry about it,” Grisha said, not unkindly, as he pulled her hand away. “Madam, is there another place you could sit?”

“I ain’t getting’ up.” Mr. Berg closed his eyes. “Unless you want me to, pretty lady.”

“I want you to rest,” Ilona said as sweetly as she could.

As soon as Mr. Berg was snoring and Grisha had Alma in another room, Ilona reached into her bag. “Tiberius, right?”

“What are you doing here?” he whispered, with a fearful glance at Miller.

“Checking your health,” Ilona said brightly. “Part of a new program to help Eldians.”

The toddler, a girl who couldn’t have been past three, scowled. “We don’t need your help.”

“Shh, Sally,” hissed Tiberius.

Ilona chuckled and held out a doll with long yarn hair towards the girl. “But this doll needs _you_.”

Sally’s eyes widened, and she took her hand out of her mouth to grab the doll.

“And Tiberius.” Ilona held out a stuffed cat with a silky black coat that felt like real fur. “Here’s a cat. They’re the opposite of dogs, you know. Vain, preposterous, and very lovely.”

Tiberius gingerly reached for the toy. “I used to be mean to cats.”

“I’m sure they forgive you.”

He squeezed its face. “I hope so.”

“I know so.” Ilona smiled at him.

No one had followed after him last night when he’d begged them to. No one ever followed after him. But she had. Tiberius smiled back.

 

“She won’t?” Ilona gaped at Grisha.

He looked around the crusty room, with the tiny children who deserved so much better. If they could only accept their destiny as children of Ymir. If only they could accept that they were so much more. “For now.”

For once crazy second, Ilona thought about dragging Alma out, or at the very least her children who didn’t deserve another second in this hellhouse.

“I’ll be back, okay?” Grisha held an apple out to Tiberius. “And here’s one for your sister, too.”

The plucky little girl reminded him of Faye. At least, who he imagined Faye to be.

“What do you mean by won’t?” Tiberius asked with a frown.

Grisha and Ilona exchanged glances. Had she overstepped?

“Never mind,” Ilona said quickly, guilt tapping on her heart.

His eyes hardened. “Get out.”

“We will,” Grisha said, pleasant as ever, while her face crumpled. Miller, fortunately, was already guiding Ilona towards the door.

Ilona heaved a sigh as the door closed behind them. Jack’s warning flooded into her mind. “I shouldn’t have interfered, should I?”

“You tried to do a good thing,” Miller said.

“No. You interfered where a Marleyan isn’t welcome, as usual,” said Grisha.

“What did you say?” demanded Miller.

Ilona held up her hand. “I understand.”

Grisha softened. “But I will do what I can.”

Her shoulders slumped. “What if that’s not enough?”

“Look in there!” The doctor jabbed his finger at the door. “Is _anything_ enough, save rewriting their lives?”

Ilona’s eyes were filled with tears. “I don’t know.”

“No one does,” said Grisha. He paused, regretting his venom, but what else could be done when one faced a Marleyan? “I have patients.”

“I understand.” Ilona nodded, unable to meet his gaze. Had she tried, she would have seen that he, too, was unable to meet hers. “Thank you for your, ahem, patience.”

Grisha bit back a chuckle. “Good day, Miss Minsk.”

“Shall we be heading back?” Miller looked at her.

“For today. More will come tomorrow,” she told him. “When I’ve actually planned something.”

“You tried. Some cretins can’t be helped.”

She whirled around to face him. “They’re not cretins, not most of them! They can’t help what they were born as.”

“As cretins.”

“I don’t see it.”

“Miller,” said a voice from behind Ilona. She froze. _No, by heaven and hell_.

“Sergeant Kruger.” Miller nodded. Ilona was too startled to turn around, to face him.

Well, at least she heard no dogs. Perhaps she wouldn’t be his next victim – but perhaps their story would. Which fate was worse?

“Is there a reason you’ve stopped us?” Miller asked after an awkward silence.

“I’m investigating a security breach from last night. Why don’t you run along, and I’ll walk her home. The charitable ones are those who need the most warnings about danger.”

“I see.” Miller nodded again. Strange, he thought it, but not unexpected. “Thank you for an unusual day, Miss Minsk.”

Her fingers pinched his hand. Her voice came out higher than normal. But if she had a chance to persuade this Kruger astray, she would not pass it up. “Thank you for your protection.”

Miller marched off, but Miss Minsk still kept her back to him.

Minsk. Of course. The mayor’s relative? Daughter, perhaps? Kruger wanted to punch something.

“You can turn around, you know.”

She spun towards him with a smile brighter than the sun. “Pleasure you meet you, Sergeant – Kruger, was it?”

She blinked innocently, under no illusions of fooling him. But why not irritate him whilst she drew breath?

“Minsk, was it?”

Her face fell. She looked like a pouting child. “I told you the mayor would listen to me.”

“You weren’t lying,” Kruger admitted. “But not so brave by day, are you?”

She stomped her foot. “Merely startled.”

“Like a fawn.”

“Like a spider,” she countered, standing on her tiptoes to look into his eyes.

“You mean me.” Oh, more than she knew. Unless she did know?

“I do.”

“I didn’t want to hurt a child.” Kruger stepped back, away from those enormous eyes. “You might as well lead me to your home. Or I can drag you to the Mayor’s, with everyone watching you kick and scream.”

“They’d rise to my defense, but that’s a lovely thought, Mr. Kruger.” She sauntered past him with a smirk. “Tells me a lot about your soul.”

He had none, but oh, that stung. “You can’t possibly believe in souls.”

“Oh, but I can, and I do.” Ilona threw her arms out. “Look at everything you can’t see. Inside the houses and shops, inside each person’s organs and inside all of their heads. Your sight means little.”

Like his titan. “I didn’t come to argue philosophy with a spoiled brat, especially one who plays hero at night.”

Ilona fell silent. Let him think that of her.

“Did you ever consider that Eldians don’t deserve your defense?” he barked.

“Defense? Why are you so _defensive_?” she scoffed as they exited Liberio. “Does it harm you to think that those we’ve encaged might be worth something?”

“Oh, they’re worth something. And so are we. This is justice for everything they’ve done to us,” he recited, hating himself for trying to corrupt a truly sweet, if idiotic, Marleyan.

“But those Eldians are dead now. Are we any better, then, with what we’ve done? How long can innocent people be forced to pay for someone else’s sins?” For a moment, Ilona allowed herself the fantasy that such a serial killer could change.

He regarded her with serious eyes she couldn’t quite read, eyes containing a library of enigmas she could lose herself in. “Those are dangerous words in dangerous times, Miss Minsk.”

Ilona blinked free from his gaze, from her confusion. She gestured behind them, towards Liberio. “Silence is also dangerous.”

“So is sneaking out for no real gain. Toys won’t cure people. And neither will doctors.”

Ilona ground her teeth. If he was right, what of it? “I will do what little I can, with what I have. Do not convince me otherwise. You shall fail.”

            She was a fanatic, as fanatic as his Eldian restorationalists. Kruger briefly entertained the notion of a Marleyan insider, but no. She was not worth the risk.

            As they headed up the stairs to a higher level of the city, Kruger seized his opportunity and wrenched her into a narrow alley.

            Ilona gasped as he shoved her into a thorny vine climbing down the stony apartment. “You can’t hurt me.”

            “ _No one_ is untouchable. Do you understand?” His eyes burned bright, almost as if he were – warning her?

            Her breath slowed. Even if he killed her, she would not yield to this coward. “You act as though my actions stem from a lack of understanding. I act in spite of what I understand, and perhaps in some sense, _because_ of it.”

            Kruger drew away. “Then God help you.”

            “And God help you. You and your deplorable partner.” Her voice lowered. “He was a _child_.”

            “So were we all, once.”

            Ilona pushed herself off the wall and spun herself directly in front of him. “Was this what you wished to be when you grew up? Someone who would attack children with dogs and call himself a hero for it? Someone who argues for silence and inaction in the face of cruelty?”

            For a moment, his composure broke and she saw a man crippled with guilt, but then Kruger swallowed and all was as before. “No.”

            _I am not my partner. I am not my partner. I am not Gross._

            _What would Jack do? What would Jack do?_ Ilona scrutinized the man before her.

            “Is that all you have to say?” Ilona was good at feigning bravery, but not so much compassion, as she grasped his sleeves, his wrists.

            “Don’t extend your sympathies when you’re angry. You’ll only fail,” Kruger told her, pulling back.

            When he dropped her off at her residence, he gave her a final warning. “I hope to never see you again, Miss Minsk.”

            _And I hope we do meet again,_ Ilona thought, but she merely smiled with sardonic demureness to hide her gloating.

            Kruger stormed off, furious at himself for his bewitchment. He hadn’t even asked her about the man she’d helped escape! He’d been so caught up in lecturing her, fighting her pretty philosophical battles that held no _real_ meaning in _real_ life –

            His fingers slid into his sleeve, where the papers – his orders, his paycheck, and Werner’s note were kept – and then he froze.

The papers had been much thicker in Liberio. Had he dropped them? He’d never been so careless.

A new possibility bloomed before him: her soft, genteel hands on his, that false pitying smile…

His paycheck she didn’t need and he didn’t care about. But she had _Werner’s note_.

He wasn’t often a man afraid, but now terror seized him.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ilona takes a new path investigating Kruger. A coffee cup is sacrificed.

Chapter Three

Content Warning: Abuse, Suicidal Ideation

 

She had swiped his paycheck.

Safely in her room, Ilona winced. She’d have to return it, somehow. She wasn’t a thief.

But he’d know to blame her. He’d know she was investigating him.

Unless… Ilona tapped her chin with a hairpin. Perhaps she could pretend she’d used the money as part of the Eldian relief program, as some flavor of revenge.

Jack was going to kill her, and no wonder.

Ilona tossed a receipt for beer onto her bed. So he drank. She would too, if she had so miserable a conscience.

But _where_ did he drink? Ilona picked the note up again and mourned her sanctimonious attitude. Had she been born in his shoes, would she be different? If she had been married to a drunken man who beat her, wouldn’t she stay? If she couldn’t stop her parents from fighting, wouldn’t she tempt fate by straying outside her ghetto? What made her think she was no better than they, but better than Kruger?

Ilona shrugged and forced herself to focus. Raven’s Pub. A notoriously crowded, sprawling pub by the docks frequented by soldiers and councilmembers alike. Even if she and Jack went the same night as he, they’d likely never spot him.

The last paper was in an unmarked envelope. A love letter? Ilona cringed away her conscience and opened it.

_-Night Owl_

_We know first year qualifications are nearly upon us. The time has come for any necessary information to ensure the Hope graduates above all._

_-Your brethren_

            This was an Eldian letter.

 

            “By the devil’s blood, why are you here, Ilona?” Jack slipped outside. “We’ve nothing to do tonight.”

“I’ve made a mistake or two, but it hasn’t been wholly for naught.”

Jack harrumphed, but moved back. “Get in. And stay quiet; my wife won’t take nicely to a beautiful young woman in our kitchen after dark.”

Ilona snorted. “I see.”

“I ran into Kruger this morning.”

“What? How?!”

“I wasn’t – I mean, I was in Liberio, for the relief program, and he insisted on speaking.”

“Really? You thought appearing this morning was a safe idea?” Jack crossed his arms over his barrel chest.

“I figured he’d be sleeping, but apparently not.” Ilona bit down on her lip. “He warned me against sympathizing with enemies; the expected remarks.”

“So we’re safe.” Jack eyed her suspiciously.

“Well.” Ilona had progressed to chewing on her lip. “We would be. If I hadn’t dug deeper. Into his shirt.”

“His shirt?” Jack blanched.

“I mean his sleeve.” Ilona flushed. “He stores papers in there.”

“That’s good to know.”

“Well, I stole a few.”

“I’d have done the same when I was your age.” Jack shrugged.

“Tell me, would you have taken his paycheck? At best, I can convince him I’m a vengeful thief. But he’s going to notice.” Ilona lowered her voice. “That’s why I didn’t come until now. It’s all the more important that I can’t be seen with you.”

“I’m glad you realize that.”

“But this story could be ended if they get too scared to continue.” Ilona trailed off. If they were too scared to kill, wasn’t that the goal anyway?

“Not if we dig deep enough.”

“I might have grabbed something else.” Ilona held out the note. “Have you ever heard of anyone called ‘Night Owl?’”

“Hmm.” Jack scanned the note. “No. But I will say that they’re likely referring to the Marleyan Titan program.”

“Yes, I thought so too.”

Jack tugged on his beard. “They’re clearly messaging a soldier who’d have access to these details. Unless this was intercepted…”

“Well, we can start by checking if our man Kruger has access to these details,” Ilona said. “How far do your credentials carry?”

“Not into intimate military matters.” Jack snorted. “Not that that’s ever stopped me before.”

Ilona rubbed her chin. “Would the mayor’s council have access?”

“Possibly.” Jack eyed her. “You’d have to be careful. Focused. When you’re looking in places you’re not supposed to, you can’t be distracted.”

“In and out,” Ilona said.

“I don’t trust your heart.” Jack tapped the center of her forehead. “You’re smart, but you’re ruled by your heart.”

“You act as if your head is better.”

“Better isn’t for me to determine. Safer, though – that’s easy to prove.” Jack smirked.

“I agree. And don’t say that’s not the problem – I know that!” She glared at him, but a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “But you know I’ll have a much easier time than you.”

“Fine.” Jacks heaved a sigh. “Now get home with you.”

“Yes, sir.” Ilona saluted him before practically dancing out of his kitchen.

She liked this work far too much. Like he had before exhaustion overtook. Jack smiled to himself and shuffled upstairs slowly, debating how much to divulge to Muriel.

 

A letter in Werner’s mailbox, left by him or to him. With all the traffic in and out of his shop, Werner hadn’t determined his identity. And for his part, Kruger tried to convince himself Werner might not even be the author. He might not know about the letters. They were all safer in ignorance.

This exchange had never broken before.

Kruger pounded his pillow. He had no option but to wait and see if she would be smart enough to turn him in.

But oh, he knew she was.

He groaned and waited for a cold sleep. Not that sleep had ever released him from this prison.

 

“I wasn’t expecting you, dear.” Mayor Dieter Minsk smiled at his daughter.

“Yes, well, it’s pleasant to see you.” Ilona smiled back. “Although, I must admit I’m in need of your kindly assistance.”

“Oh?” Dieter leaned back in his gold-tipped chair and folded his hands. Unlike some of his council who complained that their children only visited when they needed something, he was blessed with a daughter who loved visiting him for who he was. “Divulge.”

“While on my way back from Liberio yesterday, I stumbled upon the paycheck of a soldier. I’d like access to the military records – or whatever it is that would give me his address. I’m assuming the records.” Ilona clasped her hands.

“You assume correctly. My, quite careless of him.”

Ilona blinked. “Perhaps, then, I can handle it, to keep you from knowing which soldier it is?”

“Ilona.” Dieter shook his head. “I admire your merciful heart, but incompetence must be exposed. Ha – that being said, I hardly consider misplacing a slip of paper incompetent. I myself misplaced your mother’s wedding ring once.”

“Father!” Ilona laughed.

“She said she would marry me regardless, and that’s when I knew we were perfect for each other. She loved me with my faults.” Dieter smiled, engulfed in memories of happier times, before Raina’s mind betrayed her.

“Is that a hint?” Ilona raised an eyebrow.

“Marry at your own pace, Ilona. Marry someone you would marry with his faults. Preferably sooner than later, according to your mother, but you’ll not get my blessing until you find that person.” Dieter stood. “Deal?”

“Deal. Shall we shake on it?” Ilona stuck out her hand, and with a chuckle, the mayor shook it. “You’ll find military records on the fifth floor. The dusty attic, I’m afraid.”

“I’ll bathe before Mom sees me, then.” Ilona waved good-bye and made for the stairs.

 

The only drawback to her excuse was that she felt honor-bound to follow through on it. Ilona trudged towards the military residential neighborhood, grimy with dust and sulking over another possible encounter with Kruger. Or Gross, for that matter. He would be even worse.

Kruger struck her as the silent, methodical type. Perhaps the brains behind the murderous trail he left with his partner.

If she dallied for long enough, she could meet Jack straight away and deliver her discovery.

Ilona stopped to smile sweetly at a young soldier, who sputtered and turned redder than blood.

“I don’t suppose you could help me?” Pretending to be addle-headed would at least buy her some time.

“Y-yes, of course I can.” Kristoph had to worry how bad his acne was today. Maybe she was too kind to care?

“I’ve a letter for one Sergeant Major Kruger. Can you show me where Nielsen Street is?” She blinked innocently.

“It’s two down, on the left. Follow me!”

Damn, she hadn’t counted on being so close. “Do you know if he’s usually home around this time?”

“Not a clue. Me, I’m new here, fresh out of training – or mostly out. I still gotta pass my qualifications. I’m Kristoph, by the way.”

“I’m Ilona. It’s my pleasure to meet you. Qualifications: what do those usually consist of?”

“They push your physical and mental strength to its limit. Depends whether you’ve completed one or both years of training. I’ve done both.”

“I hear they’re having qualifications soon for the Titan Program.”

“Yeah, but that’s top secret. Or at least, their training is. I have no idea what they’ll do to those kids. They’re so young.” Kristoph frowned.

“Do you not agree with training them?” Ilona asked gently, seizing the opportunity to hope in the military again.

“My opinion’s of no matter. I’m not even qualified,” Kristoph squeaked.

“So you don’t. I don’t, either.” Ilona waited.

“I – I’d rather not talk about it. I’m very loyal, I promise.”

“I have no doubt. Only the loyal ones question aloud, right?”

“I, well, I hope so. Um, oh. We’re here.” Kristoph halted before a dark cabin barely big enough for one person by the looks of it.

“I see. Well, thank you, Kristoph.” She grabbed his hand. “Do you know this, um, Kruger?”

“Yeah, he reminds me of my dad, almost. Sorry, that sounds stupid.”

“No, it doesn’t. What do you mean?” Ilona frowned.

“He’s kinda crusty on the outside, but once you get to know him, he’s a master of teaching and really cares. He just doesn’t know how to show it.” Kristoph looked at the ground.

“You deserve someone to show you love.”

“Oh.” Kristoph giggled.

“Well, you do. Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Ilona persisted.

            “I’ll – I’ll try. You too,” Kristoph said, waving as he backed away. Girls scared him. He wanted to never encounter another.

            “Good evening.” She waved back before kneeling to slide the check under the door.

            She’d just gotten it out of reach when the door swung open, sending her tumbling to her back.

            Sergeant Major Kruger stared down at her. “Ilona Minsk.”

            Ilona scrambled to her feet. “I found this outside my house this morning. Seemed like something you might want.”

            “How thoughtful of you.” Kruger took her by the wrist and slid his fingers up her sleeve, just as she had yesterday. “Last night there was wind.”

            “Lucky it didn’t blow away then.” Her dark eyes resembled saucers.

            Kruger glowered down at her, but she refused to blink first. “Why didn’t you just knock?”

            “Our last meeting was quite unpleasant.” Ilona wrinkled her nose. “As is this one.”

            “Seems we have a pattern of unfortunate meetings.”

            Was that a threat? Ilona couldn’t discern. She needed Jack’s streetwise knowledge. “Then you can release me. A simple thank you, and I’ll be on my way.”

           His eyes darkened at her barb as his grip slackened. “Thank you.”

            “You’re welcome.” Ilona bobbed her head and stepped back.

            “Wait.”

            Ilona paused.

            “Seems this was not the only paper I lost yesterday.” Kruger waved the paycheck.

            “Oh, dear. That’s most unfortunate. What else did you lose? I’m sure I can ask around. But, like you said, it _was_ windy last night.” Ilona did her best to feign concern.

            Kruger nodded briefly, his face unreadable.

            “No, please tell me what you lost. I’m sure I can ask our servants,” Ilona pressed. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears, in the pulsing veins of her forehead.

            Kruger’s lips puckered at the word _servants_. What an impudent, spoiled socialite. “Nothing of great importance. A minor inconvenience, is all.”

            “But enough of one to ask,” Ilona said seriously.

            “Indeed.” He spun around and stalked inside.

 

“Most likely he’s familiar with a family who wants to help their child. Can’t fault him for that.”

“So he kills one night, befriends the next.” Ilona furrowed her brow.

“You’d be surprised, the dichotomies humanity is capable of.”

Ilona remembered Kristoph’s praise. “I’m not sure this man fits a killer at all.”

“Then what do you think?” Jack felt pride surge within him. Skepticism was a journalist’s best friend.

“I don’t know. I think we need to investigate him more. Following him and Gross, as we have been, but something more. I ought to speak with him, as we’re already acquainted.”

“And be more careful whilst following, _no matter what_ ,” Jack said.

“I promise,” said Ilona.

“What do you think speaking with him would do?”

“I plan on more than speaking. Getting to know him. To see what kind of man could kill children, then atone for his crimes with kindness. At the very least we’ll have interesting psychology for the article, then.”

“Or your dead body,” Jack said sarcastically.

“Perhaps, but unlikely.” Not for the first time, Ilona felt a twinge of guilt for her high status.

 

            What sort of woman was kind enough to return stolen money, but not a note?

            Only one who was after the note, perhaps for some sort of justice. Yes, that explained why she would feel guilt about stealing money but not a letter.

            If she believed justice involved destroying oppressed people, she ought to be ashamed of herself. Kruger inhaled enough smoke to choke.

            Unless she thought him a spy…

            No, that was fear talking. Fuck fear. Most likely she thought him a child beater, or even a child killer like Gross.

            Kruger blew out the smoke with rage. He wasn’t Gross. He just became _like_ him, allowed him to continue, because heaven knew you couldn’t fight devils when you had your own demons.

            He hadn’t meant to let Gross grow this far.

            Really.

            He’d meant to lie low, so he hadn’t turned him in the first time he’d sicced his dogs on a teenage runaway.

            Or when he threatened to rape a homeless Eldian lady.

            Even as his misgivings grew, he’d felt so ashamed for his waiting he’d begun wondering if Gross was perhaps an abnormality among even the Marleyans, and if so, should he should turn Gross in? And then those two children approached to watch the Zeppelin.

            He still hadn’t thought Gross would actually kill her. He’d been so naïve.

            If he weren’t a spy organizing a resistance, he would almost hope for Miss Minsk to arrest him, to appease his smoldering soul.

            _I’m sorry_ , he thought again. _I’m sorry, Faye Jaeger_.

He’d been too much a coward to memorize any other names, so to him, she had become them all.

 

“Hello there.”

Her voice was all too merry for Kruger’s peace of mind.

“What do you want?” He turned to face her, clutching his cup of coffee as if it were his weapon. In some sense, it was.

“I spoke to the servants, even my parents, and none of them saw another paper. I merely wished to send you my regrets.”

“I appreciate your effort,” he said tightly. _She lies poorly_. “Are you following me?”

Ilona laughed. “Were you not the one following me earlier this week?”

“I’ll take that as a yes. I suggest you tread carefully, Miss Minsk.” Kruger sipped his coffee. “You know what I’m capable of.”

Ilona crossed her arms, rather pleased where he’d taken their conversation. As she closed the distance between them, she countered, “Oh, but I actually don’t think I do. One night I see you as a criminal, another I’m told you’re practically a saint among your fellow soldiers.”

“By night you’re a street rat insulting me to my face; by day, you’re a high-bred lady veiling her true intentions.” Kruger stared down at her.

She at least had the decency to blush. “I – I didn’t quite insult you to your face. I insulted your partner. I…merely…made you uncomfortable. A distinct effort to make you uncomfortable.”

Kruger tilted her chin up to look her in the eyes.

“Oh,” he said with a smile, “but it _was_ insulting.”

Her mouth dropped as he strode away as quickly as possibly. “ _Prick_! Hey! Wait! We’ve not finished our conversation!”

“Oh, but we have, fancy lady,” he called over his shoulder.

Ilona was so much shorter than he, she had to run to keep pace. “If all you can insult me on is my wealth and looks – which _aren’t_ things I can help – you’re as foolish as you are mysterious! Just like the Eldians can’t help how they’re born.”

Kruger halted. “Alas, the poor, poor Eldians. Pity them, born as monsters. Luckily, they’ll be saved by you in your rich Marleyan glory.”

Her hand cut across his face before he’d seen it coming. She’d had to jump, but damn, she was _strong_. Blood dribbled down his face. “Fuck!”

“Oh, fuck _yourself_ ,” she spat, stepping on his toes to tug at his handkerchief as he raised it to his face.

Her eyes blazed. “Don’t you _ever_ insult them again. Have you ever considered that the problem isn’t them; it’s _us_ considering them monsters just for being different?!”

“Those are dangerous sentiments, little lady.” Now blood was in his coffee. Witch.

Her voice softened. “More dangerous than not being allowed to think them?”

“That’s not for me to decide.” Kruger tossed the rest of his coffee onto the cobblestone streets.

“Oh.” Her shoulders slumped. “Um…hold on, sir. I’ll buy you another coffee.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m late.”

“I’m going to worry about it.” She hurried back to the stand, leaving Kruger debating whether to run off and infuriate her more, or stay and try convincing her to back off through friendlier methods. Whatever friendlier methods meant. He’d never really allowed himself too much kindness. Kindness bred closeness, and closeness meant danger.

She scampered back with two larger coffees in her coffee-colored hands. “Here.” She handed him one. “I’m sorry about your nose.”

“Not the first time I’ve had that happen. Although this may be the first time I’ve brawled with a rich lady.” Ah, she’d ordered coffee with cream. Just how he liked it. She definitely had an eye for detail, and that worried him more. He started down the hill, towards Liberio.

“Ha!” Ilona grinned and followed him. He’d slowed his pace enough that she didn’t have to run this time.

“Fancy _imp_ , I should say.”

“I prefer that to ‘rich or fancy lady.’” Ilona shrugged. “I’m not helpless.”

“So my nose knows.”

She winced. “I lose my temper. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Apologies change nothing,” he said gruffly.

Her eyes widened. “Oh, but they do. They at least let you know the other person knows they were wrong – well, if it is a sincere apology.”

“Hmmph.” Kruger wished he had such luxury to agree.

Liberio came into sight. “I’m on an official investigation. Into you, if you’ll recall. So you best scamper away and give toys to unfortunate children or whatever else it is you do.”

And he had to drop off a note on the Marleyan Titan program Year One requirements, based on his educated guess that the note he’s lost had asked for such information.

He hadn’t spoken like he intended to turn her in. So he _was_ the type to bend the rules. Ilona nodded. “Good day to you, Sergeant Major Kruger.”

Her dark, windblown curls barely concealed her red smirk. If she weren’t so infuriating, she would be quite breathtaking.

 

Dad was screaming again and Mom was bleeding again.

Tiberius clamped his hands over his ears and rocked back and forth in his corner.

 _I wanna die, I wanna die, I wanna die,_ he chanted. As long as he had the option of escape through death, he could breath.

            “Stop!” screamed Sally suddenly, shoving herself between them.

            Tiberius had long dreamed about this day. He knew how this should go: he should follow her, calmly tell Dad this was wrong, and Dad would leave and never bother them again.

            But fear pushed him down.

            “Get the fuck out of my way!” Dad’s foot launched. With a sickening crack of her ribs, Sally sunk to the ground.

Tiberius gasped.

Dad turned around with a menacing scowl. “You want it too, bastard?!”

“No,” Alma moaned, grabbing for Dad’s arm with one hand as the other clutched Sally.

            Tiberius shrieked and ran for the door. Dad dove for him, but Tiberius’s fingers were too nimble. The handle sprung open, as he’d practiced so often in his nightmares, and he flew into the streets.

            He scrambled for the doctor’s shop, shoved an old man who dropped his pocket watch and plowed through a throng of old ladies, and just outside his destination collided into Zeke Jaeger.

            “Ow!” Zeke jumped back, clutching a stuffed monkey. “My head!”

            “I’m sorry,” Tiberius sobbed. Now they’d hate him, too. Zeke already should.

            “Are you okay, child?” Dina Jaeger – a pretty woman he’d seen Dad whistle at – knelt before Tiberius. One hand rubbed Zeke’s shoulder, the other Tiberius’. Not unlike Mom grabbing Dad and Sally.

            “Dad! Dad’s going to kill me,” he half-screamed, half-sobbed.

            Dina’s eyes flashed, and her grip tightened on Tiberius. “Oh no. No one’s killing anyone, I promise. Zeke, go get Father. Hey – hey, you, you’re safe now.”


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeke sends a desperate plea to Ilona, inadvertently setting off an evening of bloodshed.

 

Chapter Four

 

“A letter for me?” Ilona frowned at Eva, their maid.

“Yes. Didn’t say who from, but they did say to keep it quiet.”

“I see.” Ilona took the slip of paper and traced its edges with her finger. “I appreciate your discretion, then.”

“Of course, miss.” Eva nodded and scurried down the hall, leaving a befuddled Ilona licking her new paper-cut.

_My parents will be mad at me for writing to you, but Tiberius showed up tonight very hurt. His mom is in the hospital. Dad looks very upset and Mr. Berg and Sally are gone. Please send whatever help Marley has. Tiberius is nice and I like my new friend._

_-Zeke Jaeger_

Ilona clutched the paper to her chest. “By the blood of the devil.”

Jack wouldn’t like this. She would be too involved. But how could she not – if she’d so easily broken out of Liberio, what if Mr. Berg did? He could be killed, and then Tiberius would be an orphan.

Which was worse – Mr. Berg or an orphanage?

But if Mr. Berg broke out – and someone like Gross caught them – he _and_ Sally could be executed.

Her father would go easy on Sally, but there was no guarantee her case would rise that far.

Ilona remembered Tiberius’ defiant, tear-riddled eyes. No child should believe themselves worthy of death.

Before she’d even decided her next action, Ilona was changing back into her street outfit.

 

“Ilona, I hardly expected you – oh hell, what’s wrong?” Jack squinted through the dark night air.

“You can tell?” Ilona sighed.

“You’re tenser than I’ve seen you. What’s wrong?” Jack repeated.

“A note.” Ilona shoved the paper towards him.

Jack flicked on his lighter to read it. Shadows danced across his face.

He whistled. “Eldians fled to Marley. This can’t end well.”

“Tiberius is the kid we saved earlier this week.”

“ _You_ saved him, not me. But, yeah, I figured.” Jack crossed his arms. “You got any ideas for launching a full-scale search without the military taking notice?”

“No.” Ilona sighed.

“It’s impossible.” Jack clenched the paper until his knuckles turned white. “We might have to let this one go.”

“But it’s a kid!”

“A kid whose family is more cursed than the rest of Eldia combined, as it would seem. We can’t change that.”

Ilona narrowed her eyes. “You don’t believe in curses.”

“I’m skeptical, not cynical. I’m open to evidence.”

Ilona eyed him. “Well, maybe you need to be a little more open to the evidence that we should help them.”

Jack threw his hands in the air, releasing the crumpled note. It fluttered to the ground. “And what? Save the kid by killing the father? The police are most likely already aware that he’s escaped, right?”

“Since when have the police given a damn about Eldians? That’s the whole reason you’re writing this story.” Ilona reached for the note, but Jack pressed his foot on it first. “Give it back.”

“You don’t need it. And you don’t need me to help you.” Jack swallowed the lump in his throat. He couldn’t risk being seen with Ilona.

“I don’t, but Tiberius does.”

“ _I_ need you to help,” said a mellifluous voice from the doorway.

Jack spun around. “Muriel.”

“You know you need to help,” said his wife tiredly. Her eyes swept Ilona up and down. “I have no idea who you are, but you seem too sweet for adultery, which means you’ll live another day. But you won’t, husband. ”

Jack groaned. How long had they wanted children and failed? And he was willing to sacrifice someone else’s child? Heat flushed from his chest to his scalp. “Very well. Ilona, you and I will be separate, if I can trust you.”

Ilona breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, sir. And you, ma’am.”

“Ilona _Minsk_?” Muriel pursed her lips. “Good devils, people are full of surprises.”

“Just like good devils,” Jack couldn’t resist adding, to his wife’s begrudging smile.

 

Tiberius Berg, Sr. was going to be a proper father. He might be full of demons and alcohol, but he deserved his kids. At least Salome – Tiberius was likely in the hands of the authorities by now. Fucking Alma, too weak to take it.

Salome, now, she had an excuse. She was a tiny kid. He shook her. “Hey, wake up.”

She moaned but barely even stirred. She’d been fucking unconscious for way too long. Were all women weak?

“Hey!” He shook her. “I’m your daddy; answer me!”

Nothing.

“Baby, we’re startin’ over. Come on, now, you wanna start over with Daddy, right?” He couldn’t have hurt her. Not him. He was her father.

The moon clouded over and he lost what little light he had. “Fuck!”

Fuck, indeed. He’d spoken far too loudly.

           

            Ilona crouched in a nearby alley, watching Mr. Berg cradle his daughter on the porch of a dilapidated house two streets from the Liberio ghetto.

            Sally looked to be sleeping. Ilona itched to run out immediately and bolt into Liberio while the latest guard snoozed.

            But if she could convince Mr. Berg…

            “Don’t even think about it,” Jack murmured in her ear.

            She jumped. “You scared me.”

            “Mmm, and when we’re back I’ll be giving you a special lecture on paying attention to your surroundings.” Jack nodded.

            Ilona knew better than to assume he couldn’t read her intentions. “Why would you forgo persuasion? Isn’t that part of being a journalist?”

            “If authorities have been called – and they have, even in Eldia – you’re looking at a father about to lose his child.” Jack thought of Muriel. “You can’t overestimate the lengths people will go to for their children.”

            “Well, he _should_ lose her.” Ilona swallowed the lump in her throat. Poor Sally. Poor Tiberius. And maybe even poor Mr. Berg. “Then what do you propose: distracting him while I fetch the girl?”

            “Precisely.”

            “I was hoping you had a more insidious plan.”

            “Who says that’s not part of my insidious plan?” Jack chuckled. “You’ve gotten past Liberio’s gates before, so I’ll entrust you to find these Jaegers.”

            “I’ll do it.”

            Jack jerked his head to the side. “You’re going to want to creep around the other side of our friend.”

            Ilona nodded and scampered off.

            Jack stepped out from the shadows. “Hey you!”

            Mr. Berg’s head lifted. He gasped and clenched Sally tighter.

            _Shit_.

“You got a light? Mine broke.” Jack waved his lighter around and slurred his voice as best he could. Dammit, Muriel had him sober for a good decade now.

Mr. Berg fished around in his pockets. Nothing. “Get lost.”

“That sheems mean,” Jack staggered closer as Ilona’s small figure came into view.

Sally looked pale. Ilona had the growing suspicion she’d been hit unconscious. If he’d killed her, she feared she wouldn’t even protect him from being shipped off to Paradi.

“Oh!” Mr. Berg howled as Ilona rushed forward and swung her foot between his legs.

She grabbed Sally and bolted across the street.

“Salome!” screamed Mr. Berg.

“Who’s there?!” bellowed a distinctly authoritative voice. _Guards_.

Ilona winced and clamored further into the shadows. “Sally…”

She had a pulse. Ilona gasped with relief, able to hope once again that Mr. Beg evaded capture again. If he could return to Liberio and reform, she would hope that for him.

 

“Are you okay?” Zeke slipped over to Tiberius and whispered in his ear. He wasn’t sure why he was whispering, but hey, everything about his life was secret. Maybe everything about Tiberius was secret, too.

“No,” mumbled Tiberius, his jaw quivering.

“Do you want to hold Ymir?” Zeke held out his monkey doll. “He’s good for hugs.”

Tiberius gave him a small smile and squeezed Ymir.

Zeke glanced at Mom and Father to ensure they were occupied. “I asked Ilona for help.”

“H – how? I didn’t want that; I’m still mad at her!” Tiberius’ voice rose.

“No – no, wait! Shh!” Zeke grabbed Tiberius’ hand. “Please. I think she is nice. And she’s the Mayor’s daughter. If anyone can help, she can.”

“She is?” Tiberius started.

“Yes. That’s why she goes around handing out toys and food and all that stuff. She’s rich enough to buy it and nice enough to spend it on us.” Zeke had to admit, she wasn’t like the evil Marley Father preached about and Mom feared. Ilona was nice. So were his teachers.

He blocked those thoughts from his head by clapping his hands over his ears.

Tiberius frowned at him. “Are _you_ okay?”

“I just wanted to help you,” Zeke said in a small voice.

“I want my family together. Ilona wants Mom to leave Dad, but Dad will die without Mom,” Tiberius said. “I don’t want Dad to die.”

 _Your dad hurts you_ , Zeke wanted to say.

Tiberius’ voice hardened, and as he squeezed Ymir again, he spoke as if he’d read Zeke’s mind. “I wanna help him, not leave him. You think you’d run away if your Dad hurts you. But you wouldn’t. I know.”

Someone rapped on their door, just heavily enough to quiet Zeke’s parents.

Grisha slipped the knife Night Owl had sent them into his pocket as he headed for the door.

Zeke couldn’t help but long for the day when knocks at the door were happy occasions to interact with people, rather than possible catastrophe.

“Dr. Jaeger?” A familiar voice sent sparks through Zeke’s heart. Tiberius might be mad, but maybe she had news, good or bad! He leapt to his feet.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but you’re the only place I knew would help.”

Grisha was not at all sure why this woman was dressed so suspiciously, nor why she’d slipped past the gates. Was she Night Owl? – No, she’d have to know how obvious she seemed – His thoughts ceased when he looked at the pallid body in her arms. “My God, what happened?”

Zeke dragged a fearful Tiberius forward. His friend froze when he saw his sister. “Sally!”

“She was unconscious when I found her. I don’t know what happened.”

“Outside Liberio?” Grisha had to ask, taking Sally from Ilona’s tired arms. “Dina, grab me my stethoscope.”

“It might be best if I decline to say.” Ilona met Tiberius’ eyes as Dina flung open the door to Grisha’s shop.

“I want to know.” He stomped his foot. Zeke grabbed his hand again.

            Ilona’s shoulders slumped. “Yes, outside.”

            And he was likely caught by now, but she would never say so. She couldn’t tell Tiberius.

            “Father kicked her,” Tiberius said, his voice catching.

            Grisha looked up from the examination table he’d laid Sally on. “Where?”

            “Her stomach. I think.”

            Grisha pressed the stethoscope, the same instrument Dina had used to entertain Tiberius and Zeke earlier, against her abdomen, then her chest. “Looks like her rib’s broken.”

            “Is that all?” Dina knew full well a stethoscope wasn’t for broken bones.

            “May have perforated her spleen.”

Ilona saw Tiberius’s panicky expression. “What does that mean?”

“A hospital needs to look at her.” Grisha pointed for his coat, and Dina grabbed it. “I’ll get her there. Dina, can you stay with the children?”

“I want to go,” protested Tiberius. “She’s my sister!”

“And you’ll see her with your mom in the morning,” Dina said with a smile.

            Grisha lifted Sally once again. She wasn’t the first patient he’d had to rush to a hospital late at night, though he wished she would be the last. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

            Ilona stayed back a moment, unsure what to do, desperately hoping it wasn’t too late. If she could have taken Sally to a Marleyan hospital, she would have, but a simple blood test would reveal her identity – an Eldian without her armband.

            “How did you find Sally?” Tiberius asked suddenly.

            “I have my ways.” Ilona decided it best not to mention Zeke’s note, lest his mother worry.

            She seemed to suspect anyways, from the stern look she gave her meek son.

            “Why are you dressed like that?” Zeke asked.

            Ilona forced a chuckle. “It was easier to get around in. Days are for strolling around in dresses. Nights, for running.”

            “I’m sure it helps disguise you, too,” Dina said.

            Ilona reddened. “Well, yes.”

            “So do you run around at night doing good deeds?” Zeke asked, eyes alight. He wanted to do that. Not infiltrate nice people.

            Ilona laughed. “Um, something like that.”

            “Can you find my dad? I don’t want him to be sent to Heaven!” Tiberius, despite his anger, grabbed her hand.

            “Tiberius.” Ilona sunk down to his eye level. “I’ll try my best.”

            He nodded, disappointed but unsurprised at her noncommittal reply. Adults. Still, she cared more – if imperfectly – than anyone had, before the Jaegers. “Thank you.”

            “Of course.” Ilona swallowed. “You’re really strong, you know that?”

            “She’s right,” Dina said.

            Tiberius blinked. “Me? No.” His face crumpled.

            “Here.” Dina wrapped Tiberius, Zeke, and Ymir into a hug. The two women shared a nod before Ilona slipped back outside.

 

            Jack. Jack would know Mr. Berg’s fate. Ilona trekked towards the gate, only to stop as the soft moonlight fell upon a guard’s upright figure. Of all times for him to be awake.

            _Well, no_ , she chided herself _. At least he was asleep for sneaking Sally back in._

            But to keep her word to Tiberius, this guard was an obstacle. And obstacles were simply puzzles to be solved, as Jack would say.

Ilona slid against the shadowed Harold’s Dress Shop and slowly reached for a stone lying against the walls.

           

            Ivan Torvald had had a quiet night thus far, just as he liked it. So when the lamppost shattered not twenty feet away, he yelped like a child as his world plunged into darkness.

            “Who’s there?” he bellowed, deepening his voice.

            With a glance behind him, Ivan crept forward, his hand reaching for his weapon.

            He didn’t see the figure slipping out the gate behind him, but he did hear the cry from outside.

            With a gasp, Ivan ran for the gate. Had one of those vicious vermin escaped?

            He skidded to a stop just outside the gate. Nothing that he could see.

            “Who’s there? Show yourself!”

            No one answered.

            A skeptical Ivan marched towards the bell adjacent to the gate, priding himself for having read the reports from earlier this week. The lamppost might very well have been a distraction for someone’s escape.

Ivan yanked the bell, sending both thrills and guilt soaring through him.

 

“How does that feel? I’ll give you another!” Mr. Berg had her by the collar in the nearest alley to Liberio. “ _Where are they_?!”

“You lost them,” Ilona croaked, as the clamor of bells shrieked in her ears.

Mr. Berg jerked at the sound, and Ilona seized the chance to knee him for the second time. Then she was off, scrambling back towards Liberio.

If he were caught, he’d be killed. He’d never see Sally again. Mr. Berg dropped the glass bottle shard in his hands and fled in the other direction.

He was free of Liberio, but he’d never felt more jailed.

 

Ilona pressed her hands against her chest, where her heart still beat, but blood – thick blood, very thick blood – slid out second by second.

He wasn’t following her, as she’d intended. Even to his sullied mind, venturing back towards the soldiers swarming Liberio would be suicide.

            _You stole my family_!

            And then the knife, or whatever it was, and she’d been stabbed, but she didn’t know how to stop the bleeding or how she was going to recover. She needed to get home, but what if she needed treatment? A hospital would raise her parents’ wrath, and the truth was, Ilona _liked_ her parents’ approval.

            Jack. Overcome by a spinning world, Ilona crumpled to her knees. Jack was nowhere to be found, and she was floating – no, _running_ – in the opposite direction, from him and her parents.

            Ilona choked on tears and panic. She didn’t want to die here, but at least if she were dead, she wouldn’t know her parents’ reaction.

 _Stop it_. Ilona shook herself. She had to – had to get under control. Soldiers were stabbed all the time, and they didn’t panic, for the most part.

 _Soldiers_. Ilona lifted her head.

When she stood on trembling legs, she felt as if a rush of white snow exploded in her mind. But she could make it to him. She had to.

She’s stolen from him, and maybe she didn’t deserve help – but she had to.

           

            Just before midnight, a knock at his door could only be mean two things: tragedy, or more work. Most likely both. 

            Kruger prepared to face his superiors with a scowl, and he yanked open the door.

“Ilona!” Kruger leapt forward as she stumbled into him.

“I got the note…” she mumbled. “Tell him. I have to. Kruger.”

“I’m here.” He grabbed her by her shoulders, her very bloody shoulders.

“I have to tell Kruger,” she said.

“I’m here.”

“I tore it up…but I memorized it. I’m smart.”

“Ilona.” Kruger shook her. “Sit down.”

“Funny you should ask…” She slumped to the ground.

“I’m sorry.” Kruger ripped open her shirt to reveal a gaping hole in her chest, the perfect chest he’d have liked to see, but oh, not like this. “Hold on.”

“I’m holding on for you,” she said with an eerie smile.

“Do you recognize me?” Kruger felt her back, sticky with blood that was far too cold.

“Always. You’re my Kruger.”

Your Kruger? He held his breath as he rummaged about for his lighter. She would hate him for this, but once she regained her senses, she’d be grateful.

“Hold on.” He shoved her shirt back into her hands. “Hold this against your chest. Tightly.”

“Mmm.” Her eyes closed, but she kept the shirt pressed against her. She was just … too dizzy. But she wasn’t giving up. She wasn’t going to die just yet. She’d made it back, after all.

He pressed the lighter against her skin and his free hand over her mouth.

Ilona squeaked and dug her fingernails into her palms. Her body shuddered with repressed pain.

Kruger winced. “It’ll help you, I promise.”

Ilona knew how cauterization worked. But she’d never imagined she’d have to undergo it.

“Let’s see.” He pulled the flame from her chest. “Still bleeding, but slower. Who the fuck did this to you?”

She shook her head. “You’ll kill him.”

“Is there a reason I should kill them?” He summoned a smirk and, to his relief, received one from her in reply.

“Ha…I bet you’d like to have stabbed me.”

“It’s not often an officer is repeatedly humiliated by a girl who knows nothing of military life.”

“I just want to help people,” she murmured.

“That’s obvious,” he said softly.

“Thank you.” She tried to focus. “You like helping people, too.”

He snorted. “When they’ve powerful relations and buy me coffee.”

“No…I mean: Night Owl, first year qualifications are almost upon us…”

Kruger stiffened. “Where did you find that?”

“I stole it from you. Turns out you’re not a serial killer, after all.” She closed her eyes, her expression dreamy. “Still think Gross is, though.”

Kruger glanced at her. So that was why she was investigating him. This could be even more of an issue than he realized.

Easiest would be to let her die, but he wasn’t a monster. He wasn’t like a typical Marleyan. Not that Ilona was a typical Marleyan, either.

“Please rest,” he found himself saying instead. “We can discuss that later.”

“So I’m not going to die?” A faint smile appeared on her face.

“You’ll recover.” Kruger squeezed her hand. “Though I’m glad you found me when you did.”

“You’re being very nice.”

“You have information I need.”

“Ha.” Ilona closed her eyes.

Anxiety ticked the back of his brain. Suppose she still bled internally? “Here.”

“Oh!” Ilona gasped as he scooped her off the floor and laid her on his bed.

Kruger acknowledged his actions may seem inappropriate, maybe, but she needed to rest. “I’ll talk as long as you need, but rest on something more comfortable than the floor.”

“You have an army bed.” She poked it with what little strength she had left. “You must sleep on rocks.”

“We can’t afford feathers,” he said dryly.

Ilona rolled her eyes. “What…do you want…to talk about? The note?”

“Lighter matters, perhaps?”

“I don’t really care for lighter matters.” She winced.

“Of course you don’t.” Neither did he, particularly, but at least he respected injury. “Rest, then.”

“I have to get home. My parents,” said Ilona, grabbing his hand.

“You’re in no position to move,” Kruger said firmly. “You’ll faint. I’ll fetch you water for hydration, and then you will sleep. I’ll – I’ll get you back by morning, understand?”

“Will you?”

He sighed. “I promise. As much trouble as you are, what’s one more interruption?”


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ilona, Tiberius, and the Jaegers continue to manage the fallout from Mr. Berg's escape, while Kruger faces a a suspicious partner and a comrade.

Chapter Five

Content warning: torture

 

“I – I don’t know how to thank you.” Ilona leant against Kruger, already concocting the mysterious illness her family would find her stricken with.

“We can discuss the note this afternoon. Or evening. Wait for me outside your place. You’re not going out alone until whoever stabbed you is found.”

“I assure you that won’t be a problem.” Ilona swallowed. Rather than anger, she felt brokenhearted that Mr. Berg would fall so far.

“Really. Hmm, I wonder why?”

“Shut up.”

Kruger glanced at her with a wry smile. “You’re aware you would have died without me, right?”

“Quite.” Ilona closed her eyes to ward off the dizziness. One foot in front of the other.

“You’d make a decent blind citizen,” Kruger remarked.

If she knew her attacker, why wouldn’t she want him turned in? Kruger wondered what other secrets this seemingly proper girl hid. Gambling? A disgruntled lover? The last thought left a tinny flavor in his mouth, and he wasn’t quite sure why.

Kruger stopped in front of the wrought iron gate that separated Mayor Minsk’s sprawling mansion from the rest of the world. “You know how to treat cauterizations?”

“I’m sure I can find a book. We have quite the library.” Ilona squirmed, once more uncomfortable with her wealth.

“Don’t be naïve. That wound was beside your heart. An infection will kill you within a day.” Kruger shoved a slip of paper towards her. “Instructions. I’d imagine a well-stocked house like yours should have the proper materials I’ve listed.”

Ilona held the paper between her fingers, confused by his kindness. “Um. Thank you for your assistance, Sergeant Major Kruger. I’ll see you this evening.”

“Call me Eren.”

“Yes, I suppose you have seen me half-naked,” she said matter-of-factly. “Eren.”

Kruger felt his face burn, but he managed to reply, “We might as well strip to a first name basis.”

Ilona bit back a giggle. “My window is the leftmost on the second floor. You might want to awake me, in case I’m still asleep tonight.”

“I have full confidence in your ability to be competent when it matters.” Kruger tipped his hat in Ilona’s direction and trudged back towards his room, intent on seizing that remaining hour of sleep while _not_ thinking about Ilona Minsk.

 

The dogs growled as she slipped through the fence and darted for the house, but Ilona was climbing the chimney vines before the creatures fully awakened. Every move hurt, but she only had to resist the pain a little while longer.

Alone in her room, Ilona tore off her bloodstained pants and the soft linen shirt Eren had leant her, which might as well have been a dress given her small stature.

She could not quite understand the requirements of propriety, where it was shameful for someone to see her body even if she was dying. Surely bodies were not so sinful.

All she wanted was to rest, but even in her nightdress Ilona could feel grime and ash coating her. She would have to visit the family medicine cabinet before she could rest, and with no Eren to rescue her, she had better not faint again.

 

“Another day, another breakout.” Gross huffed besides Kruger.

“You’re awake this time.” Kruger glanced at his partner.

Gross sniffed. “I had a family emergency.”

Kruger lifted his eyebrows until the unpleasant little man turned pink.

What were the odds Ilona had been involved? Krugger almost laughed at the thought. Of course the brat had.

Helping her had put him too close to their investigation for comfort. Ever cover, every slip for humanity led him closer to discovery. Not that he exactly regretted saving her; he merely regretted the risk.

If only life were as dissectible as semantics.

By the gate, the two soldiers found Private Ivan Torvald eager to share his story.

“I only took my eyes off the gate for a split second, sir. To investigate.” Ivan gestured to the broken window just beyond the ghetto’s interior.

“And you turned around and saw someone leave?” Gross asked.

“No, sir. I heard a scream from outside, that is all.” Ivan swallowed.

Torvald was everything Lenin wasn’t. Kruger shoved aside his morality once again. “And you thought that was enough to raise an alarm?”

“Sir?” Ivan frowned.

“You didn’t see anyone escape. For all you know, the two events are unrelated.”

“Unlikely. Assuming two criminals were separately responsible, one Marleyan and one Eldian of course – don’t you think it likely the shattering glass would have scared the other off?” Ivan shrugged. “And a quick search turned up blood.”

 _Fuck_. Couldn’t she have bled a little less? Kruger let out a sigh. “Show us where.”

“Was it a man or woman’s scream?” Gross _would_ be interested in that detail.

“Woman’s.”

“Torvald, you wouldn’t know what a woman looks like, let alone sounds like,” Kruger snapped.

Ivan flushed, but he held his tongue as they turned down the nearest alley. “Here, sirs.”

Kruger stared at the blood spattered on the cobblestone streets and brick walls.

“That’s not from a trivial wound,” Gross observed. “And you’ve not been able to find any bodies nearby?”

“No, and not much of a trail, either. We followed it down that street, but it ended rather quickly.”

“We ought to test the blood,” Kruger said with relief. _Well, thanks for bleeding less, Miss Minsk_. And when the blood came back Marleyan, they’d be stumped.

“Good idea, sir!” Ivan’s eyes lit up, desperate for approval.

But Kruger’s eyes had already moved on, to the weeds and broken beer bottles further up the alley. “Wait.”

He squatted down and scanned the glass. He’d known she couldn’t have been wounded with a knife, but glass would fit the wound pattern. He donned gloves and lifted a long shard coated in blood. “Our weapon, perhaps?”

“Must be,” Gross agreed. “We’ll test that, too.”

Kruger nodded sharply. He wanted to know who’d done this, and why. Just what sort of shenanigans had her bleeding heart locked her in?

“Good work, Private Torvald,” said Gross, patting Ivan’s shoulder.

“Thank you, sir.” Ivan smiled, though he was too intimidated to meet Kruger’s gaze again.

“I bet you some Eldian bitch escaped and got what she deserved,” Gross said.

            Kruger’s breath caught. “We can have the hospitals keep a lookout, but if they had an Eldian victim, they’d have informed us by now.”

            “You never know. Bleeding hearts, those doctors.” Gross lifted his head. “If there’s anyone whose loyalties I wouldn’t trust, it’s a doctor.”

            Kruger snorted. Gross frequently surmised more than he ought, but he’d never been smart enough to recognize his instincts.

 

“Mom?” Tiberius peered at the frail woman lying in the dingy hospital bed before him. The bed was lined with four cracked walls who’d long shorn their paint, and he didn’t like it, not at all.

“She can hear you,” Dina encouraged. “They just had to make her sleep while they healed her brain. Go on, you can talk to her.”

He nodded at her, before slowly reaching out to take Alma’s hand. “Mommy?”

“I’m okay, and Sally is, too. She’s sleeping too, just down the hall.” Tiberius’ lips trembled. “I miss you.”

He looked back at Dina for approval. She smiled in response, squeezed his shoulder in approval. This mom was sweeter than his own.

Dina stepped forward. “Alma, I’m Dina Jaeger. Don’t worry about Tiberius; he’s staying with my husband and I and our son. When you get better, I think our families could be good friends.”

Grisha wouldn’t like it. He’d say Alma would jeopardize them. But Dina looked at the weepy boy before her and couldn’t help herself. Eldian restoration might be the most important thing in their lives, but it couldn’t be the only thing.

When she returned home to find Zeke already home from his “important military school,” as Tiberius labeled it, Dina’s resolve only strengthened.

“See, this is called division. It’s like subtraction but more efficient,” Zeke explained, moving his toy soldiers around to illustrate his point.

“I wish,” Dina said to Grisha as evening fell, “that Zeke could have more moments like this.”

“His children will. Someday.” Grisha swallowed hard as Tiberius took his turn dividing the toys.

Dina nodded. She felt more proud of Zeke now than when he memorized more of their secret history, and a quick glance at Grisha’s furrowed brow told her he felt the same.

“You should join them,” she said, jabbing him with her elbow. “I’m sure your wise doctor skills could teach them more mathematics.”

“We have a meeting in ten minutes.” Grisha squirmed. Zeke couldn’t miss him if he never joined them, right?

“You’re right.” Dina lowered her voice. “How should we explain this?”

“Zeke knows better than telling,” Grisha said.

“He’s still just a child,” Dina pointed out.

“Children are more trustworthy than we give them credit for. We’re meeting old friends, that’s all.” Grisha shrugged and reached for their jackets.

Zeke stopped paying attention to Tiberius. “You’re going now?”

“Going where?” Tiberius asked.

“Meeting old friends,” Dina parroted. “You two be good now, all right?”

“We always are,” Zeke said grumpily as his parents slipped out to meet their revolutionist friends. As soon as the door shut, he whispered, “Tiberius, do you want to know a secret?”

Tiberius shivered. “What kind of secret?”

Secrets like him and Mom being beat up? Or secrets like Ilona helping them? And speaking of Ilona, where was she? Where was Father?

“I’m a spy,” Zeke said.

“You’re what?” Tiberius frowned. “Very funny.”

“No, really, I am. Mom and Father are at the spy meeting right now,” Zeke said, scrambling to his feet. “Here, look in my father’s desk. I’ll show you.”

Tiberius stood, but hesitated to follow his friend. “Won’t your Father be mad?”

“He won’t hurt us,” Zeke replied. “They’re strict, but they would never hurt me.”

_Look at the pages, Zeke. Memorize it again, or no dinner. It’s not that difficult; what are you crying about?_

Zeke forced a smile. “I promise.”

 

“The last time someone tossed pebbles at my window, I had my father send the police after him.” Ilona slid next to Kruger, amused and only in moderate pain. Hidden beneath ferns and a leafy oak that towered above, not even the dogs would give them trouble. Not that she didn’t have meat to be safe anyways. “I was, oh, all of sixteen and this boy in my class at school wouldn’t leave me alone.”

Kruger’s eyebrows practically met his hairline.

“I didn’t have him arrested,” she hastened to add. “I thought he could be frightened into proper behavior.”

“Was he?”

Ilona traced the pliant soil with her fingers. “He moved on to someone else. And then another girl. Eventually he joined the military and went out east, where I’m sure he’s found someone else.”

“I see why you don’t trust the military.” _Smart move_.

“How can I anyhow, when we treat Eldians the way we do?” Ilona looked into his eyes. “Would you have saved me if I were an Eldian, Eren?”

She had used his name. He hesitated. “An escaped Eldian would be dangerous.”

“Who’s to say there hasn’t been one already?” Ilona jabbed a finger into his arm. “Your guards aren’t the best. But I…I don’t see an increase in danger. If someone escaped, maybe they just wanted a better life, and I can’t fault them. I rather think I’d help them. So arrest me.”

“They’re not like us.” Why? Why did he have to test her?

“I’m not like you, either. And you’re not like me.” Ilona leant forward. “You ought to think about it.”

“Who’s to say I haven’t?” Who’s to say it hadn’t consumed his very being for over a decade?

“Well, clearly you’ve thought some of this through.” Ilona held up a sheet of paper. “I transcribed your letter for you.”

Kruger snatched it. “You won’t tell if I keep your secret.”

“I suppose we’ll have to see which one of us breaks first,” she said slyly, with the type of innocence held by someone inexperienced in life stakes. It was almost charming.

“I don’t expect either of us to break.”

“No, certainly not.” Ilona held out her hand. “Allies, of a sort.”

He gripped her hand in reply.

“May I inquire further?”

Kruger hesitated. “How much further?”

“Not into your activities. Rather, the man behind them. Why are _you_ helping them?”

He was the sort of man more comfortable discussing actions than motivations, she noted by his sudden shiftiness.

“How much,” Kruger said at last, “do you know of the Marleyan Titan Warrior program?”

“It’s being done to protect us from the Eldians on Paradi,” she said. “Though it seems manipulative, encouraging parents to weaponization their children for financial gain we otherwise deprive them of. Ethically, I know my father has many concerns.”

“But he still approved it.”

“Well, what could he do with nearly the entire council against him?” Ilona’s eyes flashed.

“Be a leader? Go against the majority for what something he claims to believe in?” Kruger laughed sadly. “That would be foolish.”

“Maybe, if more of us did risk for what we believe, the world would be better,” she said.

“Well, given the diversity of humanity, I’m inclined to think we’d still kill and pillage each other.” He sighed.

“You don’t like thinking that.”

“No, but reality is frequently grim.” Kruger met her gaze again. “There is no threat from Paradi. We want their oil and minerals for help with our Eastern enemies.”

Ilona stared at him as if she’d been stabbed a second time. “You lie.”

“I assure you, I do not.”

His weary posture scared her. “No, my father would not approve such selfishness. No human would.”

 _Wouldn’t they_?

“Be – besides, it’s nonsensical. We’d _create_ a threat from their titans if we fought them unprovoked,” Ilona said. “But – but that would kill many Eldians, like a civil war of sorts…Oh…”

_And who exactly would be sad?_

She held her head in her hands. “Forgive me, but I can’t – I can’t believe you. Wait! Then why would you help send a child through a pointless program? Are you a monster?”

“Maybe,” he said. The shadows on his face made him look much older than his years. Despite herself, pity stirred in Ilona’s heart.

“Let me guess: the child will have no choice but to pass, or face consequences more dire than a pointless war?”

Why not tell her? Kruger suspected she could handle the truth. “Death.”

Ilona sat perfectly still until Kruger halfway suspected her to be a statue. She was unpredictable, and unpredictable was dangerous.

Finally she grabbed him by his tie and yanked him close, close enough to feel her breath on him, close enough to see the spirit behind her wrathful golden eyes. “Then you better _fucking_ help this kid.”

 

“Dear, you still look very pale,” Raina said the next morning.

At the door threshold, Ilona waved her coffee-colored hands around. “I find that impossible, Mom.”

“You know what I mean. You look awfully weak. And you’re wearing those turtleneck clothes, like you’ve a chill.” Raina stepped forward and took Ilona’s face in her hands. “I know you want to help, but, dear, don’t lose yourself in the process.”

Ilona softened. “Is that what happened to you?”

“And look at me: I never recovered.” Raina smiled sadly. “Not completely, anyhow. I recovered enough to love you and your father, and that’s all that matters. But if you can spare yourself such a burden, I wish you would.”

“You recovered the important bits. And I love you,” Ilona said, risking the pain to embrace her mother. “I will try to take care of myself, I promise.”

“Try.” Raina rolled her eyes. “I said the same. You’re my daughter, there’s no doubt.”

“Oh, was there ever?” Ilona shared a chuckle with her mother before making her way outside. Mom was right, but unfortunately, people couldn’t wait for aid or her recovery.

 

“Our man seems compelled to help the children – or at least one child – in the Marleyan titan program. Perhaps he’s trying to redeem his crimes, though I doubt it. Seems he’s more a passive bystander to Gross’s crimes.” The words rushed out of Ilona’s lips before she and Jack had even had a proper greeting.

He tugged on his beard, unsurprised by her urgency. “And what makes you say that.”

“I, uh, got into a bit of a scuffle that night, and he provided help. I’d rather not talk about more than that, though.” Ilona shrugged.

“No, of course you wouldn’t.” Jack eyed her. “And how is the girl, dare I ask?”

“I was going to pay a visit today. She got to a proper hospital, if that’s what you’re asking. I would have come yesterday and told you, but I’ve been – occupied.”

“Obviously.” Jack sipped his coffee. “Muriel will be glad to hear that, however.”

“And the father?”

“No word. He’ll be caught sooner or later. Best neither of us are around for that.” Jack knew he sounded cold, but he never saw the need to waste emotion. His life already spent enough of it.

Her jaw twitched, but Ilona knew better than to argue with Jack. “The Marleyan titan program. How much do you know about it?”

Jack hesitated, of that there was no doubt. “Why do you ask?”

“Why do you hesitate?”

“The world is colder and darker than you might bear, Ilona. Best to ease into it.”

“Oh, fuck ease.” Ilona spat out the curse as if she’d spent her entire life around sailor ruffians, and Jack wasn’t sure if he admired or took offense to it. “I need to know, Jack. If you can’t tell me what I want, at least tell me where I can find it.”

“You can find it in my office, Ilona. You will not like it,” Jack promised.

“I will not like ignorance, either. You know that,” Ilona replied. “I’ve come too far to retreat.”

“You can always retreat,” Jack countered, draining his coffee. “It’s commendable that you won’t.”

 

“The blood was Marleyan?” Gross wrinkled his nose. “I don’t believe it.”

“You don’t believe it because it’s not what you want,” Kruger replied.

“Not only that,” Gross freely acknowledged, “but an Eldian _did_ escape. I’ve just received a letter from a hospital.”

“Really.” Kruger barely felt anything. He was numb by this point.

“He’s refusing to cooperate, apparently. I’m sure we can work around that.” Gross’s lips curled in a grotesque smile.

Somewhere in his mind, he wondered what Ilona would say if she knew.

When the sobbing Eldian was dragged in, Kruger’s heart skipped. He’d seen that face before, drool-coated, drunkenly inviting Ilona and Miller into its home.

Reality crystalized before him. Somehow, this bastard – a bastard that gave Eldians their bad name – had escaped and stabbed Ilona.

“We’ll take him,” said Private Kristoph Wertz, beads of sweat already appearing on his forehead. If Kristoph had been in any other circumstances before joining the military, he probably never would have hurt so much as a fly. Soldiering was slowly eating his soul.

“N – no,” sobbed the man, collapsing to the floor. “Please let me go.”

“I think not,” Gross said, rolling his eyes.

Kruger saw the fear shimmering over Kristoph’s face. “Let me handle this, Wertz.”

“And some point the boy’s gotta learn!”

“At some point, but on such an easy case? He’s above that.” Kruger dragged the kicking man into a room and thrust him into a chair. “Now, you’re going to tell me what I need to know.”

“My name is Tiberius Berg,” babbled the man as tears and snot ran down his face. “I just want to go home.”

“Home, to Liberio, where you just escaped?” Kruger crossed his arms. In his peripheral vision, the gleam of knives taunted him.

“They were coming for me and my daughter!” the man squealed. “For me and Salome. I had to get us away.”

“Your child is out here somewhere?” The children were always the worst.

“No, because this fancy Marleyan bitch – lady, lady, I mean lady! – tricked me. She stole Salome and brought her back into the ghetto. I know it sounds preposterous, but I was sober then. I only stole from the liquor shop today because I needed it,” pled Tiberius Berg, Sr.

There it was. But if he’d stabbed Ilona, how had she helped the girl?

“And drank yourself near to death.” Kruger scanned the report detailing how he’d been discovered lying on the floor after having drunk a quarter of the store’s alcohol.

“I lost my Salome,” mumbled the man. “And my Tiberius. He’s my son. They’re both gone now. Because I’m gone.” He began to cry again.

“How did you escape?”

“I never thought this would be me,” Tiberius wailed. “I always laughed at reports of the stupid ones who left the ghetto. _Please_ let me go back. It’s not right – one mistake shouldn’t give me death!”

“Life is not fair, either. And I’m going to need more answers.” Kruger turned to the knives, for no interrogation was complete without them.

 _Think how it should be_! Ilona’s shouts echoed in his ears.

Some blades were thick for fingers, toes, dicks and breasts, others finer and sharper for skinning. And he fucking hated all of them.

He picked up a delicate one.

 _I’m sorry_ , he prayed to the trash before him, his trashy comrade and Ilona’s enemy, yet the man Ilona had still tried to save.

He chose the most delicate knife. He’d go lightly on him – it was all he could do, for him and for her and maybe, just maybe, for himself.

 

**NOTE: IM SORRY Y’ALL.** **L**


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ilona investigates the titan program as Kruger and Gross pay a visit to Tiberius.   
> Bonus: someone is about to spill Night Owl's secret...

Chapter Six

 

There were two officers before him, and their eyes hated him bad, but their words hated worse.

Alma held her son and daughter gingerly, as if she knew what she ought to do but had no more feeling to give.

“Where is heaven?” Sally demanded.

“Somewhere you can’t follow,” said Kruger.

His partner was far too considerate in these situations. Gross huffed.

“But they should know where!” Gross pointed at the kid, the boy. He sure as hell recognized that face, knew that face _knew_ him, and he hated him. “They should know exactly what they’ve done.”

“Us?!” Sally’s mouth dropped open.

“I’ll tell you later,” Alma said quietly.

“You haven’t been teaching them?” Gross approached the woman, who flinched in response and hated herself for it. She’d faced Tiberius Senior, and no officer could be worse.

“I’m sure she has…but their education has been quite disturbed. You understand,” Dina said quickly from the corner where she stood, wondering if his was how Grisha had felt all those years ago. If only she were stronger – just wait until their son, her son, transformed and wrecked these evil men.

Sally opened her mouth, and Tiberius knew, he just _knew_ , his sister was about to tell the fat rat officer exactly how much she hated him. Maybe she’d even include some of Dad’s swears.

Dad, who was dead, who’d stolen Tiberius’ only escape. If heaven wasn’t safe, Tiberius had nowhere left to run.

He dove across the bed and Mom to clamp his hand over her mouth, as he’d done so frequently whenever Dad raged.

“Ow!” Sally sank her teeth into his hand. She’d never done _that_ before.

“Monsters!” Gross wrinkled his lips and hopped back like the coward he was. “Monsters.”

 _They heard you the first time_. Kruger backed out of the room. That girl might be a good recruit in a few years…for the next titan shifter.

His skin prickled at the idea of death. Did God minimize punishment if you’d skinned the hands of fathers who’d only used their fists to punch their children? Though one minimized punishment shouldn’t save his moth-eaten soul.

“You don’t like that I mock them.”

“I don’t see the point. Should their deaths not be enough to remind them of their place?” Kruger eyed his partner.

“That boy should be dead, too,” groused Gross.

“Well, he’s not.”

“Thank you for your realism. You lack imagination, you know that? It’s a wonder you ever made it to Sergeant Major. Imagination’s best used to enhance your power.” Gross stopped outside the hospital to light a cigarette.

Kruger took the one offered to him silently. “And using your imagination here will help you how, exactly?”

“Can’t.” Gross scoffed, though he enjoyed any chance to play philosophy. “I’m too poor and lacking connections. I’ve risen as far as I can. But it reminds me that I could do better, if the world was fair.”

“I didn’t take you for someone who cared for a fair world.”

“Oh, I don’t much care. But in a world that’s unfair, it’s our duty to make sure it’s as fair as possible for ourselves, however we can. Otherwise, why be alive?” Gross blew out a stream of smoke. “Say, you’ve never told me: what’s _your_ philosophy on life?”

Kruger frowned.

“Let me guess: follow all the rules as best as you can, deny yourself every drink and laugh and fuck, because you’re a man of _principle_.”

“Have you ever known me to refuse a drink?”

“You don’t get drunk.”

“Yes, so I can cover your ass when you set the Colonel’s office on fire,” Kruger said.

“That was a long time ago!” Gross laughed, and spent the rest of their voyage out of Liberio bantering with his partner. He didn’t really care to know any philosophy besides his own.

Kruger, meanwhile, was quite relieved that he hadn’t had concoct a new philosophy. _The imprisoned made free_ would not sound nice to Gross.

 

The room down the hall housed Father’s meetings. His secretary had waved her in with a smile and assurance that Father was currently alone in his office.

But Ilona had no intentions of visiting Father yet. She scurried down the opposite end of the hallway, up the creaking stairs, back to the fifth floor and the dusty attic.

She hadn’t been outside much for the last week, but today she was determined to find out exactly what this titan program entailed.

Boxes of records were strewn across the attic, soldier transcripts and every census for the last two centuries. But on several splintering bookshelves that looked like they had been made two hundred years ago, she found the meeting minutes for the council.

The program had been announced a year and a half past, she recalled, and begun almost a year ago. During that time, there had been an infinite number of council meetings, from the look of it. She sighed, yanked the surprisingly heavy paper stack off the shelves, and began reading. Blast whoever had written this, and their terrible handwriting with them.

 

_Spring [date smudged]._

_Action Items_

_Military propose implementation of a new titan program to gain entrance to Paradi Island. Council unanimous that this is necessary, though Councilmen Adler and Fiennes, along with Mayor Minsk, retain objections to deceiving Eldian citizens, and Councilwoman Japes questions the trustworthiness of any Eldian. General Vincent believes the program will be ready in half a year._

_Action_

_Review program details in six months._

 

At least Father had tried to protest – but only the use of deceit – and what exactly were they deceiving them on? The penalty for failure seemed well-known to the Eldians.

Ilona’s head pounded. Would her own Father, the Father who loved her, who’d approved Eldian aid, really approve this?

 _Maybe to easy his guilty conscience_ , whispered her mind.

She shoved the paper into her sleeve, much like Kruger, and rushed down the stairs.

Maybe his secretary would tell him she’d come. Maybe she could confront him, punch him, scream at him, demand to know why, why, why, who had threatened him for him to approve something so awful?!

Ilona heaved a deep breath outside, trying to soothe the feeling of teetering on the edge of reality. But her ears roared with the voices of dead children.

She closed her eyes to jail the hot tears welling up. Father, the man who’d raised her to think independently, the man who’d encouraged her passions, the man who hugged her every night still, thought a war more important than dead children.

“Children will die in the war,” she whispered aloud, cracking open her eyes. Perhaps that was why? Where did numbers matter in morality?

“Ilona.”

She focused on the bulky figure before her, fighting back the screaming thoughts grappling for her mind. “Jack?”

“Uh, newspaper’s down the street, if you recall.” Jack pointed behind him.

“Is something wrong? You’re acting awfully strange.” He shouldn’t know her, right? They’d agreed. That was real, right?

“I think this is worth coming to my office for.”

 

            Ilona crouched down besides Jack and pressed her hand over her mouth to muffle her sob.

            “Hey.” Jack struggled to his knees, placing his hand on her shoulder. Thankfully, he’d risked everything and called her into his office to deliver the news. This scene on the street, even if at night, wouldn’t do. “I’m sorry. It happens.”

            “It _shouldn’t_.” Ilona wiped her eyes. “I promised him I could save him.”

            “The kid?” Ordinarily, Jack would have lectured her, but what good would that do? Tiberius Berg, Senior, was dead. He’d long learned people had their right to mourn.

            “I see why you said promises were dangerous. _Fuck_!” Ilona pounded her skirt. She was going to become just like Father, wasn’t she?

            “Hey. Heyheyheyheyhey.” Jack wrestled for her hands. “No – I mean, yeah, this’s why I said they were dangerous. But you still have the kids alive. Sometimes, dangerous saves lives.”

            “What, are you going back on your advice now?” She forced a tear-stained smile.

            “Circling around it, shall we say.” Jack lifted her to her feet. “See, now you know how tempting it is to lose any idealism, to say ‘fuck the world, let it burn.’” He sighed. “But I’d hate to see you do that. We’re reporters. We _bank_ on ordinary people’s sense of justice. We’ve gotta save some idealism for that.”

            Ilona shook her head. “How?”

            “You’re alive. You get to see the blue sky and fat gulls and hand out candy to Eldian children. You get to remember the good parts, and don’t for a minute let them ruin the bad.” Jack paused and shrugged. “At least, that’s what Muriel told me after her fifth … er, miscarriage.”

            “Muriel…Jack, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

            So she was still willing to give her heart to empathy. She was gonna be okay. Jack smiled wryly. “I cry much more than her.”

            “That’d be a fun sight to see.” Ilona laughed.

            “You never will!” Jack warned, and she repaid him with her characteristic smirk, just as the thought of facing Tiberius hit her and gorge rose in her throat.

 

            “You still seem rather quiet today,” Miller remarked.

            “I’ll be all right.” Ilona couldn’t quite look at any soldier the same way again. Children being turned into weapons – and dying in the process – and fathers, even terrible, abusive ones, executed for menial crimes. How did anyone in the military live with themselves?

            How could _Father_?

            “Are you still ill? You know, visiting Liberio is probably why you caught ill to begin with.”

            Ilona paused midstep. “You know, for once, I would like a man in my life _not_ to lecture me. Do you think you could manage that, or shall I continue on alone?”

            “You’re not behaving like yourself at all.” Miller crossed his arms. “What’s wrong? In your state, you shouldn’t over-exert yourself.”

            “Would you say that if I were an Eldian?”

            “An Eldian wouldn’t be visiting Liberio.”

            “I suppose.” Ilona sighed. “Would you like to know the real reason I’m visiting today, Miller?”

“That sounds suspicious.” He frowned.

“That family we visited? Their father was the man who escaped last week.”

“Oh. Oh.” Miller blinked. “Was he in a drunken stupor or something?”

“I don’t have the details.” Ilona lowered her eyes. “I only know that a man who was not a threat is dead, as if he were.”

“But the Eldians are a threat!”

“Are they?” Ilona whirled around. “Miller! They committed those crimes generations and generations ago. They can’t help who they are born as.”

“Ilona, it’s dangerous to voice those opinions.” Privately, Private Miller might just agree with the irate lady before him. But others – people better and smarter than he – disagreed. Who was he to say otherwise?

“Maybe I don’t care.”

“What’s put you in such a self-destructive mood?”

“Maybe someone needs to be!” Ilona cringed at her outburst. “Well, perhaps not that. But, at least, perhaps we need to be broken enough about suffering to risk self-destruction for things to actually change?”

“Are you asking my opinion?” Miller said hesitantly. No one asked what he thought.

“If you’d care to give it.” She turned to him with eyes that radiated genuine care.

Did he even remember how? He’d long stopped his opinions at feelings, rather than thoughts.

“I think most people talk about change and grand gestures all the time, in the army and in politics and evidently in socialite circles as well.” Her face colored at the term ‘socialite,’ but he plunged ahead. “And I think complacency is dangerous, but so is extremism.”

“Well, yes, but what is extremism, then?” Ilona threw back. Climbing out a chimney and spying on soldiers in the midst of night? Taking your daughter out of Liberio in a drunken rage? Saving a bleeding rich girl? Or sacrificing children to win a war?

“I don’t know, and I think humanity will debate this until we die.”

“We shouldn’t,” Ilona said sullenly.

“Oh, I agree.” Miller thought for a moment as they entered Liberio. “Thank you for permitting me to speak, Miss Minsk.”

Ilona’s mouth opened. “Of course. You’re always welcome to speak your mind around me, Private Miller. Even if I may not always, er, welcome the opinion.”

They chuckled together as Ilona stepped up to the doctor’s shop. “I received word Ti - the Bergs were sheltered here for the time being.”

Miller huffed. “You know more about this city than a spy.”

Ilona winked at him, almost giddy with fear at what awaited her inside.

“Miss Minsk?” Dina tried not to glower at the officer behind Ilona. The kid was still crying upstairs, and well he should. “We weren’t expecting you.”

“I know. I heard about Mr. Berg. I – May I come in?” Ilona fiddled with her gloves.

Dina was surprised at the pain in the Marleyan’s voice. Really, at this point, any goodness in a Marleyan surprised her, but she didn’t find it an unpleasant surprise. She stepped aside. “Please.”

Tiberius’s bitter eyes met her. Zeke, poor Zeke, had his arms wrapped tight around his friend, and he glared at her too.

“I heard about your father. I’m sorry – I thought after a week, he had evaded detection.” Ilona’s red, painted lips trembled.

“He would have if he wasn’t drunk and worthless.”

“You don’t mean that,” Ilona said as Dina gasped behind her. He ought to direct vitriol towards her, not his dead father.

“So? Does it matter? He’s still dead.” Tiberius shrugged, but his eyes blazed.

Zeke flushed. He hated anger. Anger was frightening.

“He didn’t deserve to die,” Ilona whispered.

“Didn’t he? He nearly killed Mother and Sally,” said Tiberius. “Or is it because he’s just an Eldian? Or is it because no one cares, so he might as well die?”

Ilona looked to Dina and Miller. “Can you give us privacy?”

He nodded. The kids’ eyes bored into him, angry and teary and scary.

“Someone cared enough to kill him,” Ilona said as Dina shut the door.

“I don’t know if that’s better or worse.” Tiberius doubled over. He hated crying in front of that prim soldier guarding Ilona, but someone had had to. “I should have died to make people care, not him. That’s all I wanted.”

“I know. And I wish I could have saved him too, but I’m still glad you’re here, even if you hate me,” Ilona said, matching him tear for tear. And she was an adult. “Tiberius, I’m sorry – I’m so sorry. I should never have promised.”

Tiberius’s mouth dropped. “Never? No, you should have, and then you should have kept it! Better – it’s still better that you _promised_!”

“In the end, I’m a weak human, same as you.” Ilona hiccupped. “And it’s not an excuse or a reason, and it’s not enough, but it’s all I can think to say.”

“You care about my dad more than me.” Tiberius shuddered with shame.

“You feel numb?”

Tiberius nodded silently, then cried out and punched himself in the head.

“Tiberius, stop.” Ilona sank down to his level, though she didn’t dare approach him. “Tiberius, did you know numb is what you feel when you’re saddest? When you’re so sad you can’t bear it, your mind tries to numb itself to protect you, because your mind cares about you. My mother has a chronic illness that makes her very, very sad for years on end, but she describes it as numb. You _are_ sad, and you’re not bad for feeling the way you feel.”

“Really?” Tiberius sniffled. “I’m sorry about your mother.” Should he have thought of her mother when his father was dead?

No matter. She smiled sweetly at him. “You’re a very good kid, Tiberius. I wish I were a better adult.”

“You’re nicer than most Marleyans.” Tiberius approached her. “The ones who visited – they were the same ones you saved me from.”

Ilona appeared shocked. “B-both?”

“Sometimes I’m afraid they knew who I was and killed Dad because of me.” He collapsed into her embrace.

“No, no, no – they would have killed him just for who he was born as – an Eldian. It’s so unfair,” Ilona said, wrapping her arms tight around him. How – how could – had he?

She gave very warm hugs, the kind Zeke gave, the kind he wished Mother would give him.

“Do you think all Eldians are evil? Tiberius whispered.

Ilona’s breath caught, and she drew back to look him in the eyes. “No. I _know_ you’re not. I think words like Eldia and Marley don’t tell a single thing about who is good or bad.”

In defeating Eldia, they’d become Eldia, hadn’t they? Only worse, because they ought to have learned that no one should suffer as they had.

“I think Eldia and Marley both hurt each other, but Marley’s hurting you worse now, and I’m so sorry.”

“But _you_ didn't hurt me.” Tiberius frowned.

“But … I feel like … I should have done something, anything more desperate to stop it sooner. And then – if we stopped hurting you – that would have helped your father.” Ilona wiped her eyes.

Tiberius glanced around, remembering his friend’s tears last night, before they knew about father, when Zeke had said _what if I die_? And Tiberius had told him _no one I know can die_ , twelve hours and a million feelings before. “If you want to help us, then you should help Zeke.”

Ilona wrinkled her nose. “Zeke?”

“He’s scared.” Should he dare?

“What is he scared of?” Ilona couldn’t picture Dina or Grisha beating their son.

“He’s in the Titan program and he needs to save Eldia by becoming a titan,” Tiberius leaned into her ear and rushed his words. “I think if – if someone in Marley helped him, it might help.”

“Was this Zeke’s idea?” Ilona asked carefully. Darn it, had he gone too far, betraying the adults?

Tiberius shook his head.

“Whose was it?” Her voice was kind. She didn’t view him a tattletale.

“His dad. Dr. Jaeger leads these people called ‘The Eldian Restorationalists.’ They want to help Eldians, see. But they have a Marleyan insider they’ve named Night Owl. I was thinking since you like Zeke, you could be like the insider – the Night Owl – for me and Zeke.”

 

**I know this chapter is a bit slower, but I think it’s necessary. There will be much more next week. :)**


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ilona hatches a plan to use Kruger's secret to save Tiberius and Zeke. Kruger, however, is not accustomed to manipulation - or people shimmying down his chimney.  
> (Merry Christmas, y'all).

Chapter Seven

 

The father’s tears had splashed onto his bruised knuckles, and he’d ignored the tightness in his belly as he slid the needle in as quickly as he could, the smallest, most pointless act of mercy he’d ever done. But yet, he’d done it over and over and over.

Kruger forced his eyes open. He never slept after another execution, because his mind wouldn’t leave him alone.

 _It’s for the best_ , he told himself. He did it to stay alive; he killed his people to save them. He was strong enough to see the end.

But his conscience couldn’t forget how easy he’d forgotten every face.

He sipped the coffee he’d brewed, bitter and black. On nights like these, he refused himself the comfort of cream and sugar.

“Tiberius Berg, Senior,” he whispered to himself, writing the name down before holding his lighter to the paper.

Keeping names would be foolish, but at least he wrote them down and set them free to rise as smoke in the wind.

Did they become smoke? Or were they trapped as titans? Kruger watched the paper collapse into ash that singed his fingers, and he rather embraced the pain. Did souls exist, and were they for everyone?

 

“You seem troubled, dear.” Raina ran her hand through her daughter’s black curls.

“I’ll be okay.” Ilona finally knew the agony of isolation. Oh, she couldn’t bear it.

She didn’t want to be Eren Kruger. She didn’t want a furtive fight; she wanted to cry out for freedom in the middle of the city, at noon, with her arm stretched wide.

“Mom, what would you do if you knew something wicked – something truly hurtful – was about to take place? But stopping it could hurt you and people you love. What is more right: preserving yourself so you can continue doing good, saving those you love – or saying fuck this sin and risking chaos?”

“Ilona!” Raina gasped.

“Mother, I’m an adult. I assure you I’ve heard curses worse than that one.”

“Still, I’d prefer you not to use it.” Raina frowned and smoothed her golden curls. “What is this about?”

“I’d rather not tell you. It’s not as bad as it sounds, I promise,” Ilona said with as assuring a smile as she could muster. Oh, she was a liar in danger of hellfire, wasn’t she?

Even if she couldn’t trust Father, Mom she could trust. Right?

“I know what I’d choose. I’d follow my heart, silly as it sounds. I know pat phrases like that don’t sound like much, but when your mind is your enemy and that’s all you’ve got … Ilona, you’ll find those phrases are truer than you know.” Raina closed her eyes. “Stand for what you believe. Do not be ashamed. My father told me that, and I know I and your father have told you that before. And if you need to hear it again, here it is: stand for what you believe, and be not ashamed.”

“Hmm.” Ilona regarded her mother with a queer smile. “Thank you.”

 

Today was one of his rare days off, and at the worst time. Lucky him; he could spend hours alone with a maelstrom of hideous thoughts. Kruger sat up and pressed his fingers against his temples to quell another of those pounding headaches.

Someone was banging on his door – that’s why he’d awoken, and it was barely dawn – but fuck ‘em. Kruger laid back down and closed his eyes.

A scuffling noise came from his chimney a few minutes, and Kruger froze. An animal? He hadn’t the time.

To his shock, two fancy black shoes appeared next – not the sort he’d expect of a thief – and then a white skirt and a matching jacket, all mussed and irreparably ashed.

At the sight of him, two golden eyes brightened and a red mouth fell open.

“Hello, Eren.” Ilona crossed her arms, acting as nonchalant as this preposterous situation allowed. He was _here_.

He wasn’t done gaping at her. “What – the bloody hell –”

She winced. “You’re here.”

Kruger’s eyebrows shot up. “ _You’re_ here.”

Beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. “Your roof is rather low, and all you soldiers are up by now.”

“Not today,” he said with a scowl. She couldn’t know.

“That’s a mighty coincidence,” she fumed.

“Well. Now that I’ve caught you, would you care to tell me what on earth has possessed you? Did someone inject you with lunatic serum?” Kruger grabbed the nearest shirt he had and pulled it over his muscled chest. “Hey, now you’ve seen me half-naked, too; does that please you?”

Ilona flushed. She’d been too upset at his presence to notice his lack of attire, but now, oh, he _was_ attractive. She scrambled for words. “You soldiers are the ones doing the injecting, or am I wrong?”

Kruger paused in the middle of buttoning. Relief sank into his veins. “You came about the kid.”

Ilona tugged on her loose curls, avoiding his gaze. “No, I actually planned on confronting you about that later. I came here to find your secret documents that prove you’re doing more as Night Owl than just helping Zeke Jaeger from your charitable heart.”

His breath caught, and the silence lay dark between them. Relief dissipated faster than steam on a titan. “What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, must I really spell it out? If you’re smart enough to grow an Eldian Restoration movement in Liberio, you’re smart enough to know what I meant.”

“Then I’m also smart enough not to admit it,” he said carefully.

Ilona smiled sadly. “Children don’t keep secrets, you know.”

He said nothing.

She hardened her eyes. “And now I know. I know you’re a traitor, I know you’re helping Zeke, and, yes, I know you killed Tiberius Berg. Thought I’ve no idea how you reconcile these.”

“If I’ve done any of that, you’ve no need to reconcile any of it. That’d be for me to do. And if I had done all those, I’ll admit they couldn’t be reconciled,” he said simply.

She met his gaze. “I’m sorry you can't.”

“What do you want?” he demanded harshly, jerking away as if sincerity were a plague. Perhaps it was.

Ilona sat on the only chair in his lone room – uninvited, he noted. She leant forward and stunned him with what she said next.

“You really think I would oppose an Eldian restoration? You think I wish to stop at handing gifts to children and then holding them as they cry over their executed parents? You think that’s enough for me?”

“You _are_ a Marleyan.”

“Yes, and we’re selfish bastards the both of us, but I don’t think it’s too late to change.” Ilona wiped her eyes. “And I want to change. I’ve thought it over all night. I want to help.”

“Then do nothing,” Kruger whispered.

“What?!”

“It’s dangerous,” he said.

“I’m the woman who came down your chimney to search for evidence to blackmail you.”

Blackmail? Kruger shrugged. “You’re a bit too willing to put yourself in danger.”

“Better than standing by idly as a father is turned into a titan.”

“Idle!” Kruger lunged forward, and Ilona scrambled backwards into the wooden wall. “You think I don’t participate? You think I sit back and let another take on this sin? You think I am that cowardly?”

She peered up at him. “I don’t know you.”

“I’m not,” he said, and for a moment, he sounded like a child again. “I’m not. I’ll never justify my actions, but I will never stand by.”

“Even if it means sacrificing your conscience,” she said softly, without judgment.

“Yes,” he said, his voice hoarse. He staggered back to his bed. Sitting at least took some of the hammering away from his head.

Ilona saw the man in front of her, a handsome man with a haggard soul and a thousand holes in his bleeding heart. This – this was not a man whose identity was killer or traitor.

“Look.” Ilona clasped her hands in front of her. “I came here to blackmail you for the sake of Zeke, if need be. I told you that you had better help him, and I meant it, but I can’t change that my emotions arise because I know him. But can’t you see, there’s a hundred kids like him, like Tiberius – kids we don’t even know because we haven’t had the privilege, and their lives are as rich and meaningful? You can’t save Zeke at the expense of everyone else in the titan program.” Ilona pressed her glove over her mouth.

“I shouldn’t, but I can, and I will. I don’t have another option.” Kruger glowered at her. “You think me cold?”

“I think you resigned and pessimistic.”

“And I think you naïve and foolhardy!” Kruger leapt to his feet. “You think your fabled heroes ever save the day without committing some grave sin? You’re wrong.”

Ilona stared up at him and swallowed hard. “You’re not a hero.”

Right. He was a dying man who only wished to redeem every sin he’d committed. Kruger stepped away, shaking his head.

Soft gloves curled around his hand. He turned around in surprise.

“If I thought of an idea – a worthwhile idea, even if just halfway – would you help me?” Tears glistened in her eyes.

“Have you thought that perhaps watching his friends die may help motivate Zeke?”

“There are a million means to motivate. Why settle for this one?”

 _Because it motivated me_. Kruger’s jaw clenched.

“You’re gone quiet. Do you agree?” Ilona stepped forward. “Eren, you seem troubled.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He laughed.

“No, more than that.” Ilona racked her mind. What had she – oh. “Oh.”

Her shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. Or hurt you; that might be the better word.”

“You can’t hurt me, Lady Minsk.”

“I just did.” Ilona bit her lip. “And if you’re pretending to be hard and proud, perhaps recall that we’re on a first name basis.”

Kruger ran a hand through his dark hair. “What would you have me say? I’m a soldier; I’ve seen unpleasant sights.”

She took him by the arms, eyes glowing, face encased with earnest. “I’d have you have coffee with me and not resign yourself alone to compress your bitter memories.”

“And confide in you.”

“If need be.” Ilona shrugged and chuckled. “We’re already banks of each other’s secrets.” One hand glided off his arm reached out and opened his door, while the other, surprisingly strong, tugged him along. “If anyone inquires, I’m speaking to you about the security in Liberio.”

“Wait. You’re a mess. A proper lady stepping out of a soldier’s house in the morning – surely you don’t wish for gossip.” Kruger grabbed his jacket and tried to wipe the ash off her coat and skirt.

“You needn’t – wearing white was not one of my brighter ideas.” Ilona stilled his hands. “I appreciate it, but I’m clumsy and dirtied myself from my own clumsiness, don’t you see? Not even a lie. Let them gossip.”

Kruger hesitated. He wasn’t escaping her pity, was he? “If you say so.”

She nodded and led him outside.

“They burned them,” he said quickly, squinting in the morning light. Perhaps coffee would help his head.

Ilona closed the door behind them. “Who?”

“Who do you think?”

“I’m not a mind reader,” she said in a consistently sympathetic tone.

He glanced around to ensure no one was listening. “My family.”

“Eren.” Ilona’s mouth was open and there were tears – actual tears – in her eyes. “That’s awful.”

“I watched from a closet,” Kruger said dully, determined not to show emotion. Not anymore. “I was too young to even see that the flames were about to engulf me, when a neighbor rescued me.” He scoffed. “Well, now you know why I’ve been determined to change the government.”

“They shouldn’t have died,” she said shakily.

“No, but what would you have me say? Nothing that _should_ happen has consequence. Hence why, since I was ten, I’ve taken steps to make what should happen be what _will_ happen.” Kruger glanced sideways. “That doesn’t always work out.”

“And that means you participate in things that shouldn’t happen.”

“I’ve long accepted the sacrifices to my conscience.” Kruger sighed. “Better me than another.”

“That’s actually…quite kind of you,” Ilona mused.

“I don’t seem the kind type, do I?”

“Nor do the Eldians match the oppressive type. I daresay it’s good when people don’t match what they seem.” Ilona nodded. “You _are_ kind, as much as you can afford, and I – I think that makes you a kind person.”

Kruger swallowed against an unexpected lump in his throat. God damn it, emotion! “That…means a lot to me.”

 

Tiberius had nibbled his fingernails down until they bled, and he was quite certain Dina noticed, though she said nothing. Zeke was out training, because he had only two days left before qualifications, leaving Tiberius defenseless against a recovered Sally.

“Why am I out before Mom? Dr. Jaeger said I was more injured than her.” Sally flopped onto their makeshift bed. “She doesn’t want to get better.”

“You don’t know that,” Tiberius snapped.

“I do! I heard her talking to the nurse.” Sally rolled over to glare at Tiberius. “She said she couldn’t be a good mother and she wished she had died.”

“You misheard.”

“I was there, not you. Stop acting like you know everything,” Sally growled.

“Is everything okay in here?” Dina peeked in.

“Yes,” Sally said sullenly.

“Doesn’t sound okay,” Dina said gently. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Sally shook her head while Tiberius did nothing. Adults always took the easiest answer.

“Well,” said Dina, “Miss Ilona is here to see you.”

“Ilona!” Tiberius’ eyes lit up. He wanted – he needed Zeke to stay. And if anyone could figure out how to save Zeke, Ilona could. Not that she was particularly capable, but she seemed more capable than most adults he knew.

“Tiberius, hello! Sally, I heard you’re better.” The children scrambled downstairs, and Tiberius was mildly pleased that she’d mentioned him first.

Ilona extended her arm, and Tiberius wrapped his arms around her.

“Why do we like her again?” Sally said loudly. Half of her wished to alleviate her confusion, another half to distract herself from hugs.

“I – I, uh, helped out with medical expenses,” Ilona said quickly. It wasn’t a lie, and both she and the Jaegers were uncertain how Sally should know.

“Oh.” Sally pouted. “Does everything cost money?”

“Nearly,” Dina said with a laugh.

“I don’t want to be a charity case!” Sally shrieked suddenly. Ilona and Tiberius froze.

“Sally, shh. It’s okay.” Dina dropped before Sally. She was a charity case herself, wasn’t she? Once she’d been the only Fritz behind on Marley, and now she had a restoration movement supporting her, a husband and a son.

“I don’t want to shh!” she wailed.

“I have an idea, then. You’re so mad you want to punch something, right?” Dina asked.

Sally nodded with a hiccup.

“Then come with me. Zeke has a training test later this week, so he’ll have plenty of equipment you can practice with,” Dina said. “He’s a nice boy.” She turned around. “Tiberius, would you like to come?”

“I’ll stay with Ilona,” he replied, slipping his pale hand in her dark one.

“Of course. Do you mind?” Dina asked Ilona, unsure how to address this Marleyan to her face, even as many times as she’d been told to say _Ilona_.

“Not at all, if you don’t mind us staying in your house.”

“No,” Dina said, still confused that this woman didn’t hate her.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Tiberius shoved Ilona in earnest. “Do you have a plan to help Zeke?”

“Yes,” she said. Albeit a thin one, one that would need considerably more bulk to convince Kruger. And she had to convince him. She didn’t want him to stay resigned to hopelessness. Despite her misgivings, she plowed ahead. “But I may need your help.”

“Anything.” His blue eyes shone.

“Dr. Jaeger has a chemical supply, right?”

“Yes,” Tiberius said slowly.

“Then would you know if he has any of these chemicals?” Ilona handed Tiberius a list from her sweating hands.

“I don’t know,” he said nervously, scanning the names too long for him to pronounce. “But you can look. Zeke showed me where the key to the cabinet is.”

He stopped halfway across the room. “I just – I feel like I’m hurting them. Grisha and Dina have been so nice. I don’t ever want to leave here.”

Ilona swallowed, not much liking the idea herself. “I’ll hurt them, not you.”

She was his recruit, recruiting him back, wasn’t she?

Another thought struck her: if so, she wasn’t much different than Marley recruiting Eldian children.

Ilona sucked in a breath. “No, you’re right. We shouldn’t steal from the Jaegers. I will find another way. I’m sure there’s a Marleyan store – no one will suspect a Marleyan, anyhow.” She knelt before him, desperate for clemency. “Tiberius, can you forgive me? I promise, I care for you and Zeke and the Jaegers for who you are. I’m so sorry I tried to bring you into this.”

“I brought you into it, first,” Tiberius protested. “I want to help!”

“You already have. And you will still, by being Zeke’s friend and not stealing from his family.”

“You know I’m good at stealing.” A smile peeked around the corner of his mouth.

“And better at friendship,” Ilona replied as his smile bloomed in his eyes.

 

After their lengthy conversation yesterday, Kruger had hardly expected to see her today, let alone this morning. But knowing Ilona Minsk, he really ought to have expected her waiting outside the coffee stand earlier than the sun.

He rather enjoyed her.

“You don’t say.” Ilona shoved Kruger, nearly jostling his coffee out of his hand.

“Watch it. For what it’s worth, it’s not a half-bad idea. A ten percent chance is higher than I anticipated, coming from you.” Kruger eyed her solemnly. “I should know better than to judge. You’re quite capable.”

“Not of accepting compliments,” Ilona admitted, blushing more than she expected.

“Oh, please. You wouldn’t rather me hold your rank against you forever, would you?” Kruger rolled his eyes. “Well, we’ve only a day. We’d best start straight away.”

            “I’ve a contact with access to what we’ll need for the second part, but I’ve no means of accessing the school.”

            “That would be my job, I suppose.” Kruger sighed. “It’s no secret who your contact is, though you probably shouldn’t say the name. How much does the kid know?”

            “It’s not him, and too much for any kid.”

            “I suppose.” He took a deep breath and felt her hand on his arm. Supportive and kind. “You’re too short to reach my shoulders, aren’t you?”

            “Not if I stand on my tiptoes.” She wrinkled her nose. “What are you, a miniature titan?”

            Kruger laughed, a bit wary how close she’d come to the truth. “Drop it down my chimney by tonight, and _don’t_ get caught. I have faith in you. I’ll get your stuff into place.”

            “You’re on guard duty tonight,” she said slowly as his faith warmed her heart.

            “Perhaps. Were you planning on tailing Gross and I again?”

            “Not just I.” Ilona closed her eyes. “We can’t, can we.”

His voice was graven. “I’d prefer you, and whoever this mysterious partner is, never do that again.”

“I can’t promise that.”

“For the restoration?” Kruger’s heart pounded. If Gross were investigated, he would be too. And if he fell before he could pass on his powers – well, he’d kill before that happened.

And, looking at the young idealist before him, killing now sickened him.

“We’re also doing _this_ for Eldians.” Ilona moaned as another idea crystalized in her stomach. “But I _can_ promise we won’t interfere with tonight.”

 

            “Jack, a word.” Ilona shut the door behind herself.

            Jack stood in the corner of his office, which was brightly lit enough to compensate for his depression.

            “We can’t,” she said, wondering how to begin. Now was not the time to freeze, not before her friend, not before the rebellion she’d only just aligned herself with.

            “Can’t what? Why are you here? You know the plan is for tonight.” Jack dropped a stack of shiny-inked newspapers on his desk.

            “I’m here because my presence linked to you would raise enough circumstantial evidence that we can’t keep our plans for tonight.”

            “What are you talking about?” His voice was low and trembled a little.

            “Eren Kruger is not our murderer.”

            “But Gross is! I fail to see your point. You want to stop him; I know you do.” Jack approached her. “What’s gotten into your head?”

            “Nothing I can explain to you,” she said tightly.

            “You might as well try,” he said with a shrug. “You know I’ll investigate.”

            “Then please do.”

            “Stop being a child.” Jack seized her by the shoulders. “What is wrong?”

            “If I’m honest, I considered claiming I’m star-eyed for Kruger and desperate to protect him, but –”

            “I’ll believe that the day I believe water is red,” Jack said.

            “I know, so I won’t lie to you.” She appreciated his faith in her. “But I need you to investigate further, and quieter. None of your higher ups hear about this.”

            Jack jerked away. “Why would I? You pull out now, you jeopardize a story we’ve spent months investigating. A story that could change the way the government does things!”

            “I doubt it. There’s no way you didn’t know what the government does to Eldian children,” Ilona said.

            Jack inhaled. “Is that what this is about? You’re lashing out because I haven't been forthcoming to a privileged girl whose greatest problem is her own savior complex?”

            Shame flashed like lightning across her face.

            “Ilona, I’m sorry –”

            “Don’t.” She cut him off, her voice thick. “In a way, he’d done a favor by providing her an exit. “I have more problems now. You should be relieved to know. But there’s something else: you can no longer afford me endangering you. So I won’t.”

            “What problems?” he growled.

            “Problems more than my own savior complex.”

            “It’s not a bad problem to have – ”

            “Stop walking back your own words, _Jack_ , unless you mean it. Didn’t you teach me that? Don’t be a hypocrite. Erase all the areas you have been. That’s all I really have to say to you.” Ilona wiped her sweating palms on her skirt and backed out of his office before she could burst into tears.

            She hated hurting him. She’d betrayed her master. Kruger had never mentioned how much treason corroded a heart.

But if Jack did what they anticipated, perhaps this treason would be worthwhile.

 _It’s momentary_ , Kruger had insisted. _And it was your idea_!

 _Betrayal is eternal_ , she shot back. Of family, of friends, even if for children.

Ilona glanced over her shoulder one last time before leaving the office.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the Warrior children face their first test, Ilona and Kruger enact a plan to save as many as they can.

**Chapter Eight**

 

“You two oughtn’t be here.” Dina clutched her shawl and stared down at her now former charges.

“We wanna be here for Zeke,” Sally said, even though she got butterflies in her stomach whenever Zeke looked at her, and now she was scared Dina knew, too.

Tiberius clutched his sister’s hand, grateful she possessed courage for two. Mom would be furious when she saw that they’d snuck away for the day, if she didn’t break down completely like she had last night after the Jaegers had left them alone in their new, cramped but clean apartment.

He should have thought to leave the note, not Sally. All he was good for was complaining while accomplishing nothing.

“Ah.” Dina nodded, though her eyes grew cloudier. Grisha was too sick with anxiety to accompany her. To prevent Zeke from perceiving rejection, she was determined to show enough love for two.

“He’ll be okay,” Tiberius said, grappling for hope and faith in Ilona.

“Also, we were looking for you,” Sally said. “So at least we weren’t sneaking around.”

“Me?” Dina raised an eyebrow.

“Since only Eldian families are allowed here, we were hoping our status as your, uh, temporary children could be temporarily restored,” Tiberius blurted out.

 _Hopefully they wouldn’t be her only children soon_. Dina tried to block her mocking brain. “I’ll always welcome you two.”

“Really?” Sally’s eyes widened.

“Really.” Dina rubbed the girl’s back. “But this really isn’t going to be a sight for children.”

“Then why does Zeke have to do this?” Tiberius asked, because if he hadn’t asked quietly Sally would have shouted. He could feel a guard’s eyes on him, though, and fear flitted across his face.

Dina shifted slightly to the left, positioning herself between the guard and the children. “Zeke is a very special boy. He can handle this.”

“It’s an _honor_ ,” the guard interrupted.

“Indeed.” Dina spun around, pressing her hand against her heart.

“Take care you don’t forget it.” The guard tapped Dina on the forehead, as if she were a child.

She must have hated it – he hated it – but Tiberius never saw her demonstrate anything but grace. “I would never. Good day to you, sir.”

The guard snorted. Watching kids die, even Eldians, was not his idea of a good day.

 

“Eren.” Ilona appeared by his side, watching a handful of Marleyans trickle in. This event hadn’t been advertised for the obvious reason, but word on the streets of a ‘contest’ to demonstrate the use of their taxes on Eldian soldiers had intrigued more than she’d expected. And no guard would see harm in allowing Marleyan attendance.

Few and far between would enjoy watching Eldian children hurt each other, and fewer still would stay for the executions, but those that did wore eager, vulture-like expressions. “I think I hate them.”

Kruger looked up in surprise. “Anyone you know?”

“No, just the lot of them. Although, I’m rather surprised no councilmembers have showed.”

“Most leaders aren’t evil themselves. They just allow evil to profligate under them.” There were very few things Kruger would call evil, but oppressing people for their ancestors’ crimes and killing children? Evil. Like him.

“I see.” Ilona sighed. “I shouldn’t hate them.”

“You should feel however you want to feel.”

“I _feel_ that I don’t want to _feel_ like I hate them, then.” Ilona stuck her tongue out.

“Charming.”

“Thank you, Eren.”

“I’d love to ask why you feel that way, but we haven’t the time. Everything is set.” Kruger gestured ahead, towards the small stadium floor.

Ilona nodded curtly, understanding his true meaning. “Good.”

“We’ll have to talk later, then.”

“Certainly.” Ilona swept past him with a swish of her pale pink skirts.

Kruger squirmed. She seemed to interpret his words to mean they’d need to discuss the day’s events. But he’d actually just wanted to know why.

 _Why_ he just wanted to know why wasn’t something he cared to think over.

 

In the dark, cramped room below the arena waited about twenty children who had never been so afraid before.

Zeke wasn’t so much afraid of himself dying. In fact, he was so delirious with fear he giggled as his imagination served up Father and Mother’s faces upon realizing he wasn’t special after all.

But he _was_ afraid for his friends. Penny still hadn’t been able to master the wheelhouse kick, and Frederick was too timid, even in a fight.

The door burst open, nearly blinding the children with the sunlight. They knew better than to murmur or squirm.

“Jaeger, you’re going first,” barked Captain Fischer.

A fiery wall of fear crashed into him. Yet he had no choice but to whisper, “Okay.”

“Louder!”

“Okay!” Zeke forced cheer into his voice, as if he were eager to show what a weapon he had become.

“You want to be confident, right?” Fischer patted him on his back as the door closed behind them. “This way.”

Was that all? Fischer was merely going to scold him as Father would? Zeke blinked back the sharp pain.

“Hey.” Fischer peered ahead to ensure no one was listening. Then he squatted down and whispered, “You’re incredibly talented. I believe in you, okay, Zeke?”

Relief shattered Zeke’s fear as he nodded in reply.

“Don’t think or feel. Now go out and show them everything you’ve learned.” How was Captain Fischer kinder than Father and Mother?

Fischer shoved Zeke forward, and rapped on the ornate door.

With a growl, the door began to rise before him, and Zeke knew that for now, he had to do as Fischer advised. _Don’t think. Don’t feel._

He stepped into the sunlight.

 

Ilona yanked the seam out of her handkerchief as if this sole seam were the key to salvation.

Because before her, Zeke had come out first, just as Kruger had promised.

She wished he didn’t have to. But this was the only way to ensure the Eldian restorationalists got what they wanted, and by association, Kruger’s cooperation.

She could feel Tiberius’s gaze on her, but no, he would be looking at his friend, not her. How selfish of her. He could spare his anger for later. Now, he had to feel the fear his friend couldn’t feel.

 

On the other side of the arena, Kruger watched besides a gleeful Gross and a handful of senior officers. The short sergeant major trembled to contain his anticipation, and Kruger kept his façade only by imagining the joy he’d feel shoving Gross straight down into that pit.

“Surely you had a better idea than wasting an exotic creature on these vermin,” Kruger said.

“Most assuredly we didn’t,” snapped Colonel Lange, head of the titan program.

“Beasts fighting beasts. It’s the animal way,” said Gross.

“Yes, and the human way is to force them to fight for our entertainment,” sniped Sergeant Major Wolf.

“It’s for their benefit as Warriors,” spat Lange, his face red.

“We should just kill these pests,” said Wolf.

“Shut up and watch,” Kruger said icily.

 

A gorilla rushed forward, its black fur waving in the breeze.

Zeke stared at the creature as if it were Ymir, his toy. He couldn't imagine hurting Ymir or the fluffy animal before him. In its eyes he saw rage, the same rage Father had when one of the Marleyan soldiers pushed around their Eldia brethren.

He felt connected to this creature. How could he kill someone he was a part of?

 

Gross chuckled. “It’s looking for its cub, isn’t it?”

Truitt gave a curt nod. “We’ve killed it already. Now there’s nothing but bloodlust.”

“Let’s see who will win.” Gross rubbed his hands together.

He remembered striking the match. Laying down the turpentine path. Yes, he had. These were his memories, his aloe, and the trap would work.

 

Ilona gulped in another deep breath and felt a welcome acrid tinge graze her nostrils. She breathed in again and felt woozy, but now her eyes were beginning to tingle.

“What is that smell?” An older man coughed in front of her.

“What is that smoke?” Ilona pointed straight ahead, toward the entrance where a dark purple haze wisped forth.

“Smoke? Where?” The man squinted as an explosion, louder than he’d heard in his entire life, sailed the exit into smithereens.

 

Zeke found himself whirling around as people screamed and scrambled first towards the arena, but then back towards the dilapidated exit once they recalled the wild animal.

They’d trained for this. For fires. For entrapment.

Zeke glanced at the gorilla, which now seemed more afraid than angry. “Captain Fischer!”

The man burst through the door only to see a terrified gorilla bearing down on him. “Fuck!”

Quickly analyzing the situation, he thrust open the animal’s door, allowing the mother gorilla to flee back into its den.

“Captain, we need to move the people back through our door,” called Zeke. “They can get out our way.”

“Uh – uh – ” Fischer looked at Zeke with something like admiration. Zeke had never been admired by anyone other than Tiberius. “Yes, yes we do.”

“Get the others in here. Some of them can calm the Eldians while we help the Marleyans first.” Zeke hurried over to the side of the arena.

The guests would have to brave a five-meter drop between the stands and the arena, but with no more gorilla, they shouldn’t mind too much. At least, not as much as they should mind death.

 

“Here.” Ilona helped an old lady, of all sadistic Marleyans to see! down to the edge before the arena. “See, the children will help.”

Indeed, seven of the Warriors-in-training had formed a pyramid to lower guests into the arena.

“I’ll have to touch them,” she huffed.

“Better than whatever’s causing that smoke,” Ilona said, wiping her streaming eyes.

“Is it?” The lady coughed.

“Absolutely.” Ilona pushed her forward. “Here, take this one.”

Now she was the only remaining Marleyan. Ilona wanted to scream that anxious Eldian grandparents and parents, who couldn’t know they weren’t breathing in anything but a common irritant, would have to wait for her.

She scrambled down as fast as she could, whispering a thank you! to all the children.

Times like these, all she could do wasn’t enough.

 

Tiberius clutched Sally’s hand. “It’s so hard to breathe.”

“It smells like peppers feel,” Sally observed, sniffing louder.

“Breathe through this.” Dina wrapped her shawl around them.

“No, you too!” Tiberius handed the scarf back to her. “We’ll all share.”

“I want to smell more of it,” complained Sally.

“No, you don’t,” insisted Dina. _Someone clearly hates Eldians enough to kill Marleyans, too. Just to prevent our children from gaining any mite of power._

 _Would Ilona really risk us dying?_ Tiberius didn’t want to believe it. She had to know something they didn’t, like the smoke was fine and the fire was contained.

Or she’d just risked it all, just like she always did. Ire flashed in his belly. This rich girl was not welcome to play with his life.

“The children first,” Dina insisted.

“What were they doing here?” wondered Karl Braun.

“Supporting a friend,” Dina replied, hoisting Sally over the rail into the hands of her helpful, calm, beautiful warrior children.

She really felt that way, as if all Eldian warriors were her children. Dina found herself grateful for the protection provided by the acerbic fumes as emotional tears leaked down her face.

Tiberius’ heart pounded until Dina came down, and then she had him by her left hand and Sally by her right, and she was leading them away.

“This way.” A willowy Eldian girl – her name was Miriam, if Tiberius remembered – led them through the dank room the trainees had waited in.

Dina glanced back as Zeke helped order his friends around, unsure if she admired or feared his placidity.

 

“That’s it.” Never one to take chances, Wolf launched a third unnecessary pail of water onto the collapsed entrance. Three extra pails-worth of water ought to be enough, right? But if four were needed, could he handle the guilt? “Maybe one more.”

“I think that’s enough,” Colonel Lange said dryly. “What does it look like happened here?”

“The entrance exploded,” Gross said eagerly.

“Yes, anything else?” Lange rolled his eyes.

“There’s glass shards behind you. Someone may have planted something,” Kruger said.

“Well, obviously,” snapped Lange, taking a step back and spinning around. He cringed as glass crunched beneath his boots.

“Now you’re on evidence,” Gross said in his most saccharine tone.

“Oh, am I?” Lange said sarcastically. “You. You and Kruger – you two fuckers go find out the source of that smoke. Be careful not to die, but if you do, I’m sure I’ll recover.”

 

“Capsaicin.” Kruger held a broken bottle with a charred label in hold hand, his nose with his other. “Not deadly, at least. Someone wanted to scare the Eldians here.”

“Or stop the titan program,” Gross said, staggering towards the exit. “We’re lucky no one was killed!”

“That would be the implication, and yes, we are.” Kruger followed his partner. “Someone was very precise.”

“Well, we’ve no shortage of suspects. Who doesn’t hate Eldians?” Gross scowled. “If we just killed threw them all to the animals now, we’d be doing them a _favor_.”

“And provide yourself with enjoyment.” Kruger scowled. “No, the best thing would be to keep the titan program. Refuse to let these bastards have their way.”

Gross sniffed. “We’ll see what Truitt has to say.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t foresee the colonel siding with you.” Kruger rolled his eyes and brushed past Gross.

 

“So it was a planned attack,” mused Lange as the five officers gathered among the smoldering remains. Breathing hurt, and Lange was a man who firmly believed that pain motivated efficiency.

“Yes, planned to minimize death and maximize fear, or so it seems,” said Wolf. “Jealous Eldians attacking Eldians, no doubt.”

Gross guffawed, and for once Kruger was grateful for his fool partner.

“I hardly see the need to establish facts where we have none, Wolf. As for you, Gross, have you something to add?” demanded Lange.

“Yes, sir.” Gross straightened up with a sneeze. “Eren here believes that Marleyans might fear Eldian power, even controlled, and launched the attack.”

“Hmm, well, that’s lovely. Have you evidence?! Or are all my best minds mere theorists?”

“Colonel, I found the remnants of a large supple of capsaicin bottles. Smuggling out of Liberio would be difficult, though with the recent events, not impossible.” Kruger cursed this part of Ilona’s plan. One wrong word, and he could find himself tortured beyond anything he’d ever conceived. But such was his life. “While Eldians are always suspects, the fact that this attack occurred with an expensive chemical in a Marley district during broad daylight means we cannot rule out Marleyan suspects.”

“So what you’re saying is we can’t rule out anyone as a suspect?” demanded Lange.

“What about the kids?” Sergeant Major Winder spoke up at last. “They certainly had reason enough.”

“The kids?” Lange sputtered. “My kids organized the escape from here. I dare say they all might as well have passed their training today anyways!”

“Even without the animals, they faced danger with quick thoughts and physical strength,” Kruger agreed. This part of the plan hinged on Lange’s human spirit, something Kruger doubted.

He did not, however, doubt Lange’s ego.

“Obviously. They’ll all be passed and advanced to the next stage,” said Lange. “The kids are the only ones I’m proud of here. Gah! Damn you all – worse than Eldians!”

 _All_ of them? Zeke he’d expected, but now Kruger had to wonder if Lange had generosity after all.

“The council won’t approve,” said Gross, bitter that he’d been denied the suffering that burned his soul.

“The council will listen to reason, unlike your fat head,” Lange replied. “Now get out and write your incident reports!”

 

“The council will have to review, but Lange’s bets are on parents or Marley.” Kruger collapsed onto his bed in his dim cabin lit only by streetlight through a window he’d deliberately kept dusty.

“Will they be interrogating the parents?” Ilona asked nervously, sitting on the corner of his bed. Their proximity disquieted her, but exhaustion overweighed her anxieties.

“We start tomorrow. Don’t worry, we’ll save torture for the perpetrators.” Kruger closed his eyes, hoping she would _take the fucking hint and leave_. “Do you know how many times your plan could have gone awry?”

“Yes, because I’ve played each one in my mind about a hundred times.”

Ilona shivered. “I risked killing people, Eren. I’m not even sure it matters that we didn’t, because I risked it all the same.”

Kruger opened his eyes and glared at her. “So, a killer is your definition of irredeemable.”

Ilona froze as the face of Tiberius Berg, Sr., floated across her mind. “No, I didn’t say that. What’s more, I didn’t mean that.”

“But do you?”

He wasn’t looking at her. She wanted his gaze to convey her seriousness. Ilona leant over him and pried his eyes open. “No one is.”

Kruger snickered and pushed her hands away, even as her sincerity handed him a flicker of hope. “Ever met Gross?”

“Not even him.” Ilona’s voice shook. “I have to believe that, or I’ll go insane.”

“Do you know how many men, women, children I’ve killed? Tortured? The youngest was _two_ – she’d been brought out by her dumb parents as they made a run for it. They were aimed a better life and what they hit was death. Much like your Salome could have been.” At Ilona’s surprise, he added, “Yes, I’ve pieced that much together. She’s lucky.”

“I don’t know if I’d call it luck. She’s still in a ghetto and her family’s in ruins.”

“Well, she’s alive, isn’t she? That’s something,” Kruger said, sitting up; his face awfully close to hers.

Where was it? She should pull back, tremble, scowl at his misdeeds. At the very least she could look disgusted. She loved children; surely that hurt her.

She did none of the above, and Kruger squashed his hope immediately. She was well-bred; she’d learned how to hide her dislike.

“Do you think you’re irredeemable?” Ilona asked quietly.

“I don’t have much time to think about redemption.”

“You have enough time to nurture a furtive Eldian force and save children with a demanding socialite,” she said.

“Ah, you admit it.” Kruger cocked an eyebrow.

Ilona giggled, but her eyes remained contemplative. “I suppose I am, for better or worse.”

“Different perspectives are valuable,” he said. “If annoying.”

“They’re annoying because they’re inconvenient. But you know what’s more inconvenient in the long run? Forcing them to be like you.” Ilona ran her fingers across his hands, and his breath caught, as if he knew what she was going to say before she spoke. “Like inciting someone to hate you because you hate yourself.”

“I don’t hate you, Eren. We’re humans – we’re guilty sinners all of us. And we’re beautiful and capable of good.” Her hands tightened around his. She was surprisingly strong, but then, what about her wasn’t surprising?

The lines around his eyes crinkled as he tried to hold back his emotions.

“You know,” Ilona added with a wink, “I also know your worst secret. Practically speaking, you shouldn’t want to incite my hatred anyhow.”

“Oh, I have deeper secrets than that,” he joked back, but also – also – he _did_. Secrets she could never know.

“That’s okay,” she told him.

Kruger squeezed her hands back. “You’re an odd mix of ignorant and wise, you know that?”

“Everyone is,” Ilona said. “You’re ignorant enough to think your actions mean everything, and they don’t. Neither do intentions, true. Please don’t take offense, but you’re like … like you share the opposite trait with my father. Though you at least don’t pretend to be a righteous man. For that, I respect you more than him, I think.”

Kruger was not at all pleased to be compared to her father, much less Mayor Minsk. He wanted to be something else to her, something impossible because hadn’t his life left.

“My father lets this injustice happen because he thinks his intentions matter more,” Ilona said bleakly. “But they don’t. Is it weird, then, if I still follow his advice to me, even now?”

“’Love everyone,’ he said. ‘Love your mother and everyone in our household. Love the people of our city. Love everyone in this world.’” Ilona smiled through her tears. “I may be ignorant to follow this advice when the person giving it is a liar, but I will. Because something in those words speaks to me, like wisdom I can’t explain.”

“No, I…I think you should.” Kruger smiled at her. “I’ve lived my entire life among hate. Your father, bastard though he is, is right about this.”

What would his life become if he were to love everyone? Gross, Lange, Mayor Minsk? Was it too late?

A tear trickled over Ilona’s red, red lips and Kruger found himself staring at them, wondering if perhaps not all was lost with a late start.


	9. Chapter Nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tiberius recruits Zeke, Dina hatches a plan for another restorationalist recruit, and this time Kruger recruits Ilona for their cause.

**Chapter Nine**

 

“I can’t,” moaned Alma.

“You gotta,” insisted Sally, grappling for her mother’s hands.

Alma lifted her tear-streaked face from her bed. “I’m not strong like you, Salome.”

Tiberius’ heart skipped. Sally hated being called Salome.

But his sister didn’t stomp or yell. She just whimpered and said, “But Mommy, you gotta.”

Alma clapped her hands over her ears as she shrieked.

“Stop it, stop it, please stop!” cried Tiberius.

“I can’t not!” screamed Alma suddenly. “I’m useless without him! I’m useless! I’d be better off to you two dead!”

“ _Don’tsaythat_!” he screeched.

Now she’d done it. She really couldn’t go to work now, when she’d upset her kids so much. Alma began to cry again, quietly this time.

She wanted to hug them, but she hated herself too much to move.

Tiberius turned towards their door. He could leave, but go where? He couldn’t bother the Jaegers again, nor Ilona.

He wanted to be like Ilona, to cook up crazy solutions that somehow succeeded.

Oh, she’d apologized for her actions in the arena, but he’d begged her not to, because for once something crazy and well-intentioned had worked, and Tiberius needed to believe that the crazy and well-intentioned would save him, too.

 _Zeke_. Zeke wouldn’t be burdened, and he might risk being late for Tiberius.

He wasn’t sure if Mom would assume him abandoning her, or if he cared, as he ran out the door of the small apartment the Jaegers and their community had helped raise money for.

Tiberius didn’t want to lose the apartment. He suspected the rebels had donated the money, and he wanted all their efforts, even helping his hopeless family, to succeed.

“Zeke!” Tiberius raced forward and grabbed his friend’s arm.

“Tiberius! Why aren’t you getting ready for school?” Zeke’s eyes were even rounder than usual. “Is it your mom again?”

“Can you visit? Quick? I think you’ll still be on time,” Tiberius lied.

“No I won’t,” Zeke said solemnly, brushing past his friend. “You know you can tell me the truth, right, Tiberius?”

“What? Why are you helping, then?” Tiberius hurried to keep up with Zeke.

Zeke blinked. “Because you’re my friend. It’s okay to ask for sacrifice from your friends.”

“Is that your dad talking?”

Zeke sighed. “Yeah.”

 

“I didn’t notice you tailing us last night.” Kruger slid a cup of coffee into Ilona’s hands. In the two months since they’d decimated the arena, the arena had been rebuilt, but apparently not Ilona’s desire to hunt down Gross.

“Is that a complaint?” Ilona clutched the paper cup and breathed in the warm fumes.

“A concern.”

He had such deep eyes, eyes that saw and experienced everything. Ilona glanced away as if she might drown.

Oh, Jack had followed him, she had no doubt. But she’d been too embarrassed to speak to Jack since their argument, and he hadn’t seemed to make any effort of his own. “Never fear. Someone is.”

“Well, I know you wouldn’t leave my dear partner to his sadism.”

She smiled slightly. “Were you actually concerned for me, Eren Kruger?”

“I know, it’s a change from being concerned _about_ you.”

Ilona playfully socked him in the arm. “Hey!”

His coffee jostled, and she squeaked. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Kruger shook the burning drops off his hand. “I was also checking to see if you’ve given up midnight escapades.”

“I’m not so easily tamed.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Though your parents probably do.” Kruger smirked, and she responded with that roll of her eyes he’d grown very fond of. “But unless I’m mistaken, our … larger action did seem to unsettle you.”

Ilona sobered. Though they’d met nearly every morning, they hadn’t spoken of their plot since that night.

“It was an action I couldn’t take back. I mean, I couldn’t take back any of my actions before, either, so I’m not sure why this felt different.”

“Maybe because this was your first directly antagonistic towards the government?” Kruger asked.

Father’s face floated before her eyes. “And my family.” She stopped walking and grabbed his sleeve. “I don’t regret it, though, and I’d do it again.”

“You have another chance for direct antagonism.” He had to wonder why he was doing this. If he just wanted to spend more time around her.

“Is that what you’re calling it?” Ilona teased.

“Would you prefer treason?” he murmured, though no one was within earshot.

“No. I prefer you alive.” Ilona’s cheeks pinkened underneath her dark complexion. She was fortunate.

Kruger honestly wished he could read her signals. Even if she did – er –admire – him, he wouldn’t dare risk her. Besides, there was so much she didn’t know about him – titans and bloodlines and death.

“I’ve a mission for you, then,” he said in a low voice.

Ilona eyed him. “Go on.”

“There’s a shipment of weapons to arm the soldiers serving in Liberio, in case another breakout happens.” Kruger sighed. “And you know it will.”

“With those conditions, of course. Even in the nicest conditions, it’s a cage,” fumed Ilona.

Her fire warmed his heart, and perhaps his body, too. Kruger squirmed and shoved away the thought.

“But even if we were to stop this shipment, would that simply be delaying the inevitable?” asked Ilona.

“The military will acquire those weapons no matter what,” Kruger acquiesced. “But so will certain Eldians.”

“And will they use it and destroy each other, then?” Ilona was horrified.

“I think they’re wiser than that. Their numbers and firepower will never be enough while they keep secret. My hope is that more weapons will simply raise their morale and embolden them to recruit more.”

“But do you truly believe people won’t use the weapons they’re given? That’s madness.” Ilona paused. “Unless we disable them…”

“And give a secret group faulty weapons?”

“No! We could leave them for Marley … or both. Give your friends one or two, as few as possible, while demolishing as many as are left. Whatever it takes to encourage your friends and frustrate our – our blood family, I suppose.”

He nodded. “I like your plan. It’s balanced.”

But there was a strange gleam in his eyes, as though he wished to say something but wouldn’t.

 

“Why were you late this morning?” Captain Fischer stood before the classroom door with his arms crossed.

Zeke felt trapped, more trapped than he had felt in the arena, more suffocated than he did at home. “I was helping my friend.”

“Friend? Which friend?” Fischer’s jaw muscles worked, but otherwise his face remained stoic.

Zeke wanted to prostrate himself before the captain and beg him not to hate him. “His mom was sick.”

“Is she?” Fischer knew better than to surmise. Kids talked when they felt no pressure.

“She’s – she’s sick in her mind. I hoped that by having me come to her, she might at least behave,” Zeke stammered.

“You? What could you do?” Fischer tilted his head.

“Nothing!” Zeke felt hot and sweaty. Mom and Father would say he could do a lot, but Alma didn’t know that anyways. “I just wanted to help her, and someone not in her family might have better effect than her own kids.”

Behaving, always behaving. Fischer frowned. “You’re a smart one to see how our mind affects our behaviors.”

Zeke nodded.

“And you’re a kind one.” Fischer knelt before him. “Kindness won’t help you, Zeke.”

“I know.” Tears pricked his eyes. He was how Alma felt she was: helpless.

“But your smarts will.” Fischer ruffled Zeke’s golden hair. “You’re the best trainee we’ve got, you know that? Just apply those smarts once in a while to things like kindness.”

He wasn’t sure he bought the kid’s excuse. Zeke often seemed to consider little else but his duty. He possessed more knowledge and less innocence than any child in the program, and those characteristics had landed Zeke Jaeger as number one on Fischer’s suspicion list.

Still, patience was key, and he rather liked the kid. “I’ll let you off today. Come late again, and you’ll be running five gauntlets.”

Zeke gulped. “I understand.”

            “Get home with you, Eldian scum,” said Fischer with an indiscernible smirk.

            The sun was setting, and Zeke knew he was going to be late home now, too. But so long as he arrived before Father closed up the shop, he’d be okay.

Zeke held his head low as he entered his home. Father’s voice echoed within, sending a wave of anxiety though his body. Of all days for Father to be done early.

“Zeke, how was school?” Mom poked her head out of the kitchen and smiled at him.

“Fine.” Zeke tried to sound more cheerful than he felt.

“What happened?” Grisha walked into Zeke’s line of sight. “You’re home late.”

“The Captain kept me back after class,” Zeke said dully. Lies were meaningless.

“Is this a new part of your training?” Dina wanted to scream first, then kill some Marleyans second. They kept stealing her son from her.

“No. I got in trouble.”

“What did you do?” Grisha asked in alarm.

Zeke wanted to cry. Why did Father have to assume he’d done something bad? “I helped Tiberius this morning, so I was late.”

Grisha scowled. Tiberius had better not interfere with his son again.

“Alma is sick in her head, Father. She was crying and seeing things that weren’t there. I tried to motivate her to go to work, that’s all.”

Dina’s gaze softened. “I see. You did good, Zeke.”

“Next time, tell me. I can help you so you won’t have to be late.” Grisha patted Zeke’s shoulder.

The subject dropped as Grisha talked of planning the next restorationalist meeting, but after Zeke had been put to bed, he couldn’t help but bring it up.

“It’s so disheartening to see our sister suffering like that. Seeing things that aren’t there…”

“She must be in so much pain. All those memories – not even leaving her home helped, apparently.” Dina flicked back a strand of hair.

“I just don’t know what else to do,” Grisha said bleakly.

“Yes, you do.” Dina squeezed his hand.

“I don’t, but then you always seem to appear and bring in a thousand inspirations.” Grisha wrapped her in his arms.

“I realize it’s a risk,” Dina said slowly, “but if she has something to live for, perhaps, just maybe, her grief will be lessened. Or at least she’ll have something motivating her through it.”

“She’s a liability!”

“Don’t you want to help her? We’ve risked a child like Zeke; surely we can risk her, too.” Dina scowled.

“Zeke would never be a risk,” muttered Grisha. Not his son. But Alma…the misery on her face was apparent every time he saw her. She was in more pain than most people with physical injuries, and he couldn’t help her physical condition anymore. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” Dina teased.

 

A dog growled on the other side of the wrought iron gate leading to the Minsk’s mansion. Kruger tapped his foot impatiently. He’d had quite enough of dogs.

“Here, Brutus.” Her voice brushed sweetly through the darkness, and then the dogs were gobbling something up and she had scaled the fence.

Ilona landed beside him as lightly as she could. “I’m assuming we’re headed to Alexandria District? Or is this shipment separate from the usual ones?”

“Sometimes it’s easiest to hide in plain sight.” Kruger kept to the edge of the shed bordering the Minsk mansion. “Keep to the shadows.”

Ilona huffed. “I think I know that by now.”

“I worry about you,” he said automatically. “Like I worry about my Eldians group. I feel responsible.”

Ilona glowered at him. “Alas for your pride, I’ve established this as a partnership. I don’t work for you; I work _with_ you.”

“Now who’s prideful?” He cocked an eyebrow.

She stuck out her tongue. An argument right now would be not only meaningless, but stupid. “Well, Mr. Responsible, if you’re headed to Alexandria’s docks, you’d be best taking the stairs behind Striker Avenue and through Perenna District.”

“What?”

“My friends and I used to sneak around there as a child. We’d get lost in the warehouses and play, usually – ” Ilona winced. “Pretending we were fighting Ymir’s titans.”

She felt sick as she guided him down opulent Striker Avenue. “I could say we didn’t know better, but I have to wonder how children already hate their enemies.”

“Parents brainwash. Some for good, some for bad. You oughtn’t feel guilty,” Kruger said, though the images she’d provided disturbed him.

“Well, regardless, I do.” Ilona ducked in the alley between gold-plated Ritzer’s Jewelry and ornately carved Overman’s Barista. “Here’s the stairwell.”

“You’ll see Perenna becomes considerably less elegant as we approach Alexandria. I won’t think we’ll encounter anyone up here. Closer to the sea, there’s always beggars, harlots and their pimps.” Ilona tugged her hat down over her pinned curls.

“I doubt anyone will recognize us.” Kruger, too, pulled down his cap. He was dressed in scrappy civilian clothes, same as her. “Did you deliberately cut your shirt up?”

“Well, my other one was coated in blood. It’s now ash in my fireplace. I had to do something to blend in.”

“So you took scissors to your shirt.”

“Obviously.” Ilona’s heart beat quicker. “Why would you notice?”

“What? I have to notice things.” He fumbled for words.

“Mmm.” Ilona had to wonder, could he …?

They finished the rest of their journey in silence, until Ilona halted at the end of the stairs. “Here. The glories of the Marley civilization.”

Broad, ugly stone warehouses spread across the harbor. The moans of prostitution and sniffles of sick mingled with the lapping of waves, and the smell of smoke, chemicals, and salt was unmistakable. If Gross and Kruger dared to venture into Alexandria during their night watch, they could make plenty of arrests. But no, Gross, like most soldiers, preferred to wait for Eldian misdeeds.

Ilona looked up at him. “You’ll have to guide us to the correct warehouse.”

“Obviously.” Kruger looked down at her, and for a moment he felt a bolt of electricity, as if the Coordinate had spread out beyond Eldia into Marley.

Their faces were awfully close, and if he could – if he were anyone besides an Eldian titan-shifter – he might have kissed her then, duties be damned.

“Let’s go,” he said instead.

 

“What _are_ these weapons?” Ilona whispered once Kruger had picked the lock to an unguarded side door. “I mean, I recognize rifles. But these vials?”

She squinted at the pale yellow liquid in the cold glass she’d lifted from an insulated box. “Toxins?”

“Most likely. In case they need to hammer the Eldian population on short notice.”

Ilona bit her tongue. How would the council and her father feel if she threw one of these vials into their meeting? How would they _feel_? Similar to the Eldians, no doubt, only at least their families wouldn’t be present.

“These,” said Kruger, “are weapons we can’t give to the Restorationalists. The guns, sure, but not the vials. They’ll be of no use to anyone.”

“If we blow this up, we’ll just poison the people here.” Yes, Alexandria houses the dregs of mankind, only slightly better than Eldians in most Marleyan’s mind, but they were _people_. She could not cause the moaning couple they’d passed in the shadows to be in their last night.

“Then what do you propose?” Kruger was more than willing to take another punch to his soul. More than willing to bear more Marleyan blood. But, perhaps, there was a difference between willingness and eagerness.

“The ocean would kill the wildlife,” Ilona mused. “I wonder…this is very cold.”

“So you think leaving them out of the crate might erode whatever’s contained inside?”

“Well, are the boxes marked?”

Kruger bent down. “Keep chilled.”

“Well, I hope we have our answer.” Ilona hesitated.

“Most likely they’ll still try to salvage whatever they have. We may only be delaying. It’s all we can do.” Kruger took out a handful of vials from their cooler and carefully walked over to a corner. “We can stack them here. Let’s hope no one’s clumsy enough to step on them.”

“There must be an empty crate around.” Ilona hurried around the stockroom.

“And what will we do when science allows temperature-stable poisons?” Kruger crossed his arms as Ilona heaved a large barrel their way. “Do you need help?”

“No,” she insisted, as he expected. “It isn’t heavy, just awkward.”

“It is practically your size.”

“Shut up.” Ilona placed the barrel down besides the insulated poison crate. “We’ll have to be careful now.”

Kruger nodded. Her plan was insane, but how to tell her so?

“As for your question, I don’t know. I hope it never happens.”

“That’s not enough.” Kruger delicately placed the first vials in the barrel, upright and reflecting off his flashlight.

“I know. What would I do if these were room temperature? Would I let Marley have them and hope for more Marleyans like you?” Ilona eyed him closely. “Would I poison wildlife? Most likely – oh, I think so. But what right have I to say humans are better than fish?”

“Religions say so. Even ancient documents on Ymir say we are,” Kruger offered.

“We? I thought Ymir was all about Eldians.” Ilona furrowed her eyebrows, and Kruger’s heart sank. “I don’t know if I believe those. Hey, I can’t believe you’re lecturing me on belief!”

“I’m not lecturing.”

“True,” she acquiesced. “What do you believe, Eren Kruger?” _Say Ymir so I know._ Though whether he was a convert or an Eldian in disguise, she wasn’t sure. And she didn’t want to ask.

“I believe in humanity,” he said simply. “I believe in kindness, and love – love so grand it transcends us mere humans. Sometimes I think there’s a god. Sometimes I don’t. I’m not sure which is more comforting.”

“I always found the idea of god comforting,” Ilona said. “But I suspect you don’t because you’re worried that god would despise you for what you’ve done?”

“I’m not sure the good outweighs the bad.” He shrugged.

“I’m not sure it’s a game of scales.” Ilona put her hands on her hips. “But I do think you’re not a bad person. I don't think I am, either. That’s all I can offer you.”

Not love or at least friendship? Kruger ignored his subconscious. _Not now_. “That’s good to know.”

Even if it wasn’t enough. He believed in love and kindness, but had rarely given or experienced it. He felt like a ghost, unable to interact with the world he believed in.

“And if I said we shouldn’t risk it and we should dump this barrel in the ocean? It’s heavy enough to sink.”

Ilona looked at him in agony. “Please.”

“Ilona, the council isn’t that many votes from using this shit. Your father’s one of the last holdouts, but who’s to say he won’t change his mind should the titan program backfire?”

“Who’s there?”

Ilona jerked, but she still placed the remaining vials in the barrel and lifted the top from the floor. She would complete the mission.

Kruger flicked off the flashlight, but another light had already landed on her.

Kruger raised a gun.

 _Not now_ – Ilona wanted to cry out.

The young guard aimed shakily at Ilona.

She ducked as two shots rang out and his head exploded – along with a small metal container three feet behind where she had been standing.

For a second, Ilona felt frozen. Battle was here, battle was now, and she was woefully unprepared –

Ilona spun around to see the smoldering can behind her, and flames leaping along the contains of guns. Behind them was a pile of liquid propellant and gasoline. “No!”

Kruger grabbed her by her shaking hands. “We need to get out of here.”

“We need to get this out of here, too.” Ilona jabbed her fingers down towards the barrel of toxins. “Into the sea, I don’t care. It can’t blow up.”

Maybe some wouldn’t think twice, but Ilona had always loved animals. Still, people – people mattered, too, and she was loyal to familiarity after all – human familiarity.

Kruger grabbed the barrel and began dragging it across the floor as the flames began to grow into a small, deadly starburst. “I will do this.”

“I’ll push.” Ilona appreciated his desire to save her from guilt, but she was here, she was already guilty. “You’re not doing this alone.”

“Hey!” Another guard rushed in from the front, but stopped as soon as he saw the fire. “Fuck!”

Ilona coughed as the smoke thickened. Deep, thick, acrid smoke, much unlike the comforting aroma of a fireplace. _This is war, this is war_ , echoed in her mind.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ilona discovers another of Kruger's secrets at an inopportune time, while Dina encourages a conversion of sorts for Alma.

Chapter Ten

 

“Keep low to the ground. We have a minute at most.” Kruger yanked the barrel forward with enough strength that Ilona, who was far from weak, felt nearly useless.

“Stop!” As soon as Kruger tumbled outside onto the docks, Ilona saw that the guard had run around to the side exit.

His revolver was aimed straight at Kruger. Ilona had her chance – to save the mission or Kruger.

Or both. _Maybe it’s not a scale._ Ilona shoved the barrel with all her strength, aiming both towards the guard and the water.

Her eardrums exploded with gunshots, but the barrel and Ilona had fallen into the briny water as the dock exploded.

The eruption reverberated through Kruger’s every molecule, and he felt himself tumbling into nothing as hot metal devoured his side.

Then he was in the water, splish-splashing around in shock, and gunshots were still ringing out – the frantic guard had gone mad, firing every which way.

Ilona surfaced before him, spitting out the briny water. On instinct, Kruger wrapped himself around her to protect her as a second explosion, louder and closer and so, so hot, sent nails and wooden planks from the dock smack into them.

“We have to help him! You! Person I oughtn’t name right now! You!” Ilona was shaking him. “The guard’s going to drown!”

Up ahead, the guard’s limp body was sinking into the waves.

“Don’t you dare let him die,” she seethed, swimming over to the guard.

Kruger ignored the pain in his side as he, too, grabbed the guard and began pulling him the twenty meters to the nearest jetty. _Quickly, quickly, quickly_ – not only might the toxins have leaked during the explosion, but doubtless hundreds of Alexandria District soldiers had been alerted.

“Here!” As they dragged the body onto the docks, Ilona checked his pulse. “He’s okay.”

“We’re not.” Panting, Kruger pointed towards the shouts and flashlights swarming what remained of the dock. “We’ve got to go.”

“You don’t say.” Ilona scrambled to her feet, and Kruger tried to stand – only to gag and stumble into her.

“What – ” Ilona looked at his side. “What the hell?!”

“Back to my place.” Kruger yanked off his jacket and pressed it against his side to minimize a bloodwater trail.

“Uh – uh – okay. Lean on me.” Ilona grimaced as they crouched down, his weight bearing down on her. If only adrenaline would last her a bit longer – along with the thick smoke.

Ilona felt cobblestone under her feet again when Kruger gave a soft groan and suddenly he had collapsed, and she was struggling to keep him upright. “Hey – hey – you gotta stay conscious a little longer, Eren. Please.”

She shook him harder. “Wake up!”

He couldn’t be dead – but if he was, they couldn’t know he was the owl. She’d have to stage something. How would she find the time or means without getting caught?

 _Stop_.

Ilona squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, she jabbed her fingers into Kruger’s pulsating neck.

With a gasp of relief, Ilona shook him one last time.

She knew Alexandria. She knew this place. She could get them out. Ilona surveyed their dingy surroundings. Left would be best, with its alley and its direction.

As soon as she began to move him, Kruger coughed and opened his eyes.

“Thank heavens.” Ilona pressed her forehead against him as voices approached them. “I need you to walk with me. For me. For a minute at most, just at least until we find shelter. Please.”

“Who goes there?”

Ilona jerked as a beam of light struck her back.

Kruger grappled for his gun, but then a shack behind the racing guard exploded into flames.

“What?” Ilona shriek-whispered as the soldier fell down from the impact. “How?”

“The explosion set something off,” Kruger decided as soldiers descended on the smaller fire. More smoke billowed between them and the shack, providing the perfect cover.

And Ilona noticed a stocky figure scrambling down another alley.

 

“What’s Dina doing here?” Sally shoved Tiberius away from the cracked door. “Let me listen.”

“You’ll give us away!” He pushed back, a new boldness for him. He’d always used his body against his peers, not his family. But Zeke had encouraged him to stand up for himself. Zeke, the one he used to tease and pick fights with.

In Alma’s room, Dina sat on the edge of her bed.

“I’m sorry I can’t get up,” said Alma, pressing her hand against her pounding head.

“I’ve had migraines before,” Dina said with a kind smile. “How are you doing, Alma?”

“I’m doing,” Alma muttered.

“You should be more than doing. You deserve it.” Dina smoothed Alma’s hair. They might have been the same age, but Alma felt like a scrambled failure of an adult. She scrunched her face up to avoid the tears.

“No.”

“You’re a daughter of Ymir. We’re capable of more than most people. So are you.”

“A titan. Not helpful,” Alma said.

“Something large and capable of building as well as destroying. If you think about it, we might experience more destruction than most, but we’re also capable of the most rebuilding, too.”

“Says you. I’m sure Tiberius would disagree as he roams Paradis.”

Dina cringed. “Perhaps. But we could, if Marley would allow us.”

“I don’t need to hear how _special_ I am. I don’t deserve anything. That’s just how it is. I’ve accepted it.”

“And yet here you are crying on your bed.” Dina grasped Alma’s hand. “Do you know, I swear to you, there’s more to life than this. I swear it. There’s an entire world you haven’t seen yet.”

“What are you talking about?” Alma brushed back a strand of hair.

“There’s an entire history Marley erased. Eldian history.” Dina swallowed the lump in her throat. “I know. I’m descended from the First Eldian King. My husband – he’s seen miracles, read text in script he couldn’t read. Ymir’s spirit lives, and she’s here in all of us Eldian children. There’s more to your story, Alma, I swear it.”

Her friend lifted her head, a frown on her face. “Dina, are you involved in treason?”

Dina shook with conviction. “Sometimes, treason is worthwhile.”

Alma stared at her.

“For truth. For my Eldian brothers and sisters. Like you. Marley may tell you you’re useless – _Tiberius_ may have told you the same – but they were so wrong. I see it in you. Alma, you’re as special as any one of us Eldians.” Dina blinked back tears, and to her amazement, Alma did the same.

“I don’t know what to do,” said Alma.

“Act. Live for Ymir, for all of us Eldians, as we live for you.” Dina squeezed her hand.

“Even Tiberius?” But as Alma asked, she realized just how strongly she had yearned to forgive her husband. She might be relieved that the beatings had forever died, but she hated the idea of him, the one she’d snuck away with as a teenager, the one she’d conceived children with and supported, crying and dying alone.

He was of Ymir, too. He was special, just like she. Alma covered her mouth as her shoulders shook. “I’m a terrible mother and mess of a human, much less an Eldian. And you’re telling me there’s hope for me?”

“There’s always hope.” Dina wrapped her arms around Alma’s bony shoulders. “Will you help us?”

“Yes,” Alma burst out, forgetting whom exactly _us_ was. But did specifics matter more than _us_? Us, where she belonged.

 

 

“Here we are. Let me see.” Ilona slammed the door to his cabin shut as Kruger dropped to the floor, relieved he’d made it this far. His bed was so close, but he hadn’t the strength to reach it.

Before he could move, she’d grabbed a knife from his kitchen and was cutting off his shirt. Good, because he was too tired to undress himself. It was all unnecessary anyway – she needed to go away.

Ilona stared at the pulsating wound, oozing bright scarlet already puddling onto the wooden floorboards.

“This is bad, Eren.”

“I’ll…be fine,” he rasped, but he didn’t have the strength to cover his wound with his own hands.

“Eren!” A few moments later he realized he’d lost consciousness again. How many times did that make?

Ilona pushed his hands against his side and dove for his bedsheets. By the time she’d yanked off the sheet, the paleness of his face seemed to have grown worse. _He’s bleeding out_.

“Eren, how do you raise an alarm? I have to take you to a hospital,” she declared.

A hospital, where their blood tests would get him killed, until they found he couldn’t die.

He closed his eyes to fend off the spins arising from blood loss and fear. “No.”

Ilona bent down to his level and shoved the sheet into his hands, which were slick with blood. “Look, we can go to the farthest one from the docks, but Eren, you’ve probably got intestinal damage. I’m not a doctor, I can’t cauterize that, I can’t even control the bleeding, and I don’t want you to die on me.”

“I don’t…visit doctors.” Kruger fought back panic. This well-meaning woman was about to get them both killed.

“What?”

“No hospital.”

“Eren, don’t be stubborn.” As she spoke, something niggled at the back of her mind.

“ _No_ _hospital_ ,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Why?” she demanded. “Why? Why is a hospital so frightening?”

His eyes met hers, and they were suddenly muddled and half-conscious, but pleading with a desperation she’d only seen once before. The desperation Tiberius had worn the night all three had met.

Her shoulders slumped. “Eren…”

She knew. He saw in her eyes. Maybe. She had to suspect at least. Kruger feared he was about to see just how far a Marleyan’s commitment to equality would extend – and he didn’t want her to hate him. “Just let me…be.”

“I’m not leaving you. You’ll have to throw me out, and you can’t in your condition.” Ilona added her hands over his to double the pressure.

He winced.

“Too much?”

“No.” Kruger tried to meet her gaze, but she was focused solely on controlling his bleeding.

“You’ll need to drink water as soon as it slows, to increase your blood volume,” she narrated. “I’ll grab you some as soon as we control this. I – we’ll find a way. Somehow.”

She couldn’t, but she would. She had to. She was calmer now, more focused. They could do this.

“It’s not…so bad. It’s getting better. Look.” After another minute, Kruger forced himself to move. He lifted his hands to show a steaming wound, oozing rather than gushing, already scabbing around the edges. Maybe he’d be lucky and she’d think herself mad.

Ilona gasped. In these few minutes? Then how bad had he been wounded when the explosion first went off?

“I’ll pour you water, then.” She rose and walked to the sink to ponder this. Either she was crazy, he had magical healing properties, or …

Kruger’s heart sunk as she approached him again.

“Here.” She pushed the glass against his lips. “Your blood’s only on the outside of the glass, I promise. Drink all of it.”

He obeyed. Anything to lessen her anger. If she was angry, and she didn’t seem it – but she knew. He’d lived twenty fucking years among these Marleyans and not _once_ had his identity been compromised before. And then came Ilona, fucking wonderful Ilona…

When he swallowed, Ilona placed the empty glass, coated in her bloody fingerprints, back in the sink. “I’m glad you’re healing.”

She approached him again, pausing to gather her courage.

He lowered his head. He barely breathed. _I’m sorry_ came to his mind, but why? What was he sorry for? Saving his people? Deceiving Marley? Or merely deceiving her?

Finally, she spoke.

“You’re not Marleyan, are you?” Ilona slid next to him.

Kruger heaved a sigh. But the words – the words wouldn’t come.

But her hand returned to his side. “It’s okay.”

He looked at her, eyes wide and – frightened.

Tears slipped down her face. At last she knew, and he trusted her enough to let her discover his secret. “I don’t think less of you as an Eldian. You ought to know me better.”

“I do,” he muttered, glancing away.

“Then look at me.”

Kruger obeyed.

“I am so, so sorry you had to suffer all these years. Alone.” Ilona shook her head. “I hope you know you’re not alone anymore.”

“I have to be.” Kruger’s fingers wrapped around her wrist. “If they catch you – with an Eldian –”

“I’m not abandoning your cause or you, Eren. I could sooner turn into a titan,” she said with a rather sorrowful giggle.

“Ilona,” he groaned.

“I want you. I love you _for_ being Eldian. You know that already.” The words tumbled out of her.

Kruger fought the urge to dissolve into shivers and flee the world forever. Love? Love? How could she? She was too young, too pure – she must be preserved.

Preserved? She wasn’t an item. She was a person, intricate and unfathomable and deep.

Her saw the desperation on her face, the wonder and fear and questions. How could he respond? How dare he reply to that level of devotion?

“Yes,” he croaked.

He wasn’t sure whether he kissed her or she him, but he had never felt anything so gentle before.

She pulled away and felt his breath in short, hot gasps against her cheek. “You don’t have to love me, though I suspect you do, but just know I love you.”

Did he? What was love? He barely remembered.

Then she bent down and kissed the wound in his side.

Kruger burst into laughter. “You’re – you’re bewitching, and kind, and – and I can’t express how glad I am to hear I’m finally suspected of something good.”

Ilona’s face was bright pink. “Well, I don’t know if I would call an Eldian restoration force _bad_ …”

“I love you, too,” he interrupted.

Her face melted before him, so he took her in his arms and kissed her again.

 

Two days of frantic journalism on the Alexandria explosion had wearied Jack, but not so much he’d miss the shady figure waiting outside his mansion.

“If you were trying to be subtle, you’ve failed.” Jack opened the door and beckoned her inside.

“Lucky for me, I wasn’t trying.” Ilona brushed past him.

“Been busy at night?” he asked sarcastically as she turned to face him, her eyes wide and worried.

“I know what you did,” she said instead.

Jack shrugged. “You’d be stupid if you didn’t. And while you might be foolish, I wouldn’t have taken you on if you’d been stupid.”

“Why? And how did you know to be there?”

“Don’t be naïve. Something was up between you two.” Jack stroked his beard. “This is why I fear for you.”

“He’s not who you think.”

“He’s not who I _thought_. I think he is definitely who I think _now_.”

“Perhaps,” Ilona conceded, though she wasn’t naïve enough to yield a direct confirmation. “I, uh, I’m sorry for abandoning our story.”

“I’m sorry you did, too. If you’re trying to join again, I can’t let you. One wrong move, I go down, too.” He dropped his voice. “And Muriel.”

“Then … I apologize even more. I didn’t intend to break faith.”

“You were always going to, in one form or another. It’s in your nature, and that’s not all bad.” Jack half-smiled. “Would I have taken you on had I seen you clearly? I don’t know. I know this, though: I’m both sad and glad you shouted me down in the middle of the streets that day.”

“And I’m sad and glad you saw past my accusations.”

“I saw a heart beating for justice.” He shrugged again.

“And I never would know or have seen myself – or Eldians – if it weren’t for you. They’d be a pitiful charity case to me, not much else.”

“You’d never stay in that trap for long.” Jack crossed his arms.

“Maybe. I don’t know.” Ilona hesitated. “My only regret is knowing the extent of the mayor’s cover up.”

“Your father’s still dear to you, isn’t he?” Jack sighed.

“I’ve always been closer to him than even my mother.” Ilona leant against the door. “It’s been weeks and I remain unable to reconcile his sins.”

“Sins weren’t made to be reconciled. Or so the priests’ say.” Jack fished through his bag. “Now, I don’t say that. Reconciliation, that’s their domain. I say sins were made to be understood, but that might just be the drum of my reporter heart talking.”

“Short of honesty, what should I do? Let my father stay on this path?”

“You can’t choose for him. Honesty could as easily kill as save. But.” Jack pulled out a pen and paper. “You might as well know. Since your obviously planned attack on the arena –”

“I suspected you’d guess.”

“In another life I’d be proud, but not this one. Yet.” Jack handed the paper to her. “The council has begun questioning the wisdom of the Titan Warrior program. Don’t feel too guilty – it was bound to happen one time or another.”

“I don’t know whether to feel relieved or horrified for what that means for those in Liberio.”

“Best worry for Paradis. You’ll find a report from spies who traveled recently to Paradis has been distributed to all the councilmen and women. You may find it of use for your…clique.”

She’d have to steal from Father again. Ilona lowered her eyes, but just as soon raised them. No, she’d find another way. She and Kruger both would.

“Thank you, Jack.”

“You’d best be on your way.”

“Does this mean you’ve forgiven me?”

“Not yet, my dear.” Jack smirked as only Jack could.

 

A hairpin in the lock, a few fiddles with the doorknob, and Ilona leapt into her father’s office before she could flee.

She felt a coward for breaking in at night when this was her _father_ , but then, she wasn’t sure she could bear to spend much time with him.

With a glance down the dim hallway behind her, Ilona quietly closed the door and hurried to Father’s desk.

Here at midnight she wouldn’t have to steal from him. She wanted to, she really did. She was angry enough that she wanted to rip those documents from him and burn all his others. To laugh in his face when he saw she, his Marleyan daughter, was the culprit.

But she couldn’t. Something inside her – maybe her conscience, maybe the love for him slowly killing her – insisted that the better path lay ahead tonight.

Betrayal, but a lesser form.

Ilona slipped the pen and paper out of her pocket and moved her father’s lamp under the desk, where no passersby would see the window light.

_“What are you up to under there?”_

_Ilona shrieked as Father swept down to grin at her hiding under the desk._

_“Ow!”_

_In her haste, she’d knocked her head against the underside of his desk, and a small hatch opened to shower her with papers._

_“Are you all right?” Mom would have scolded her for the papers, but Father just cared about her._

_“Yes. Are these important?” Ilona stared at fancy folders with words she hadn’t learned yet._

_“Not as important as you.” Father pulled her away and hugged her. She did, however, shriek again when he tickled her._

With a swallow, Ilona slid her hand along the underside of the desk. Yes, there was a latch here. She hadn’t dreamt it.

This time she pulled the papers out one-by-one rather than strew them about.

A full document detailing the titan program. A monetary proposal bound to alienate two councilmen. An unmarked folder.

She cracked open the folder to see the letters she knew strung together in nonsensical words. But the top page was marked “Eldian report.”

This must be it. Hopefully. Ilona turned on the lamp and began to scribble down. She prayed Kruger would know how to translate them.

Crouched below the desk again, Ilona felt as if she were beside her childhood, as if she could reach out and brush that baby blue bow she insisted on wearing each day.

She’d never imagined betraying her family and loving an Eldian. And though she would never question whether her actions were worthwhile, she had to wonder what had happened to her.


	11. Chapter Elevem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kids take up their own spying mission while Ilona and Kruger explore their feelings.

**Chapter Eleven**

**Content note: mildly steamy fluff.**

 

Kruger had always preferred the comfort of late night to morning’s blazing reality, but these past mornings had changed his perspective. Somewhat.

In the week since she’d discovered his secrets and he’d discovered hers, the sight of her each morning her thrilled him, and for once he let himself enjoy his feelings. From the sparkle in her eyes, she had information for him, too, but that was second to her. “Care for a stroll to Liberio?”

“You know I’m always headed there.” Ilona rolled her eyes and squeezed his fingers. Her eyes sparkled with feeling.

“Still too afraid to visit the kid?” Kruger asked quietly as they began walking side-by-side. Most citizens would assume he was her guard, so for the moment, they were safe.

“I can’t have him linked to me should anything happen.” Ilona closed her eyes. “But I _miss_ him.”

“I spent twenty years alone,” he said hesitantly. “To protect others, maybe, but mostly just…a mission.”

“Was it your mission you protected?” Ilona asked carefully. “Or yourself?”

“I really don’t know.” Kruger glanced sideways to catch her gaze. “I am my mission, Ilona.”

In more ways than she even knew. Yet. Ilona was too clever not to determine the rest.

“You’ve a queer smile on your face,” she noted. “But that’s besides the point, handsome. In truth, you strike me as a martyr.”

“Martyr?” Kruger stared at her. She knew he savagely murdered his Eldian brethren, be they man, woman, or child, all to keep his identity secret.

Ilona nibbled the edge of her coffee cup. She ought to tell him about the documents she’d copied, but there was something personal she must mention first, selfish as she was.

“I was snooping in my father’s office last night. And I found – I mean I looked for – military records.”

“And?”

“And I read you haven’t missed an execution since you began your service. In fact, you volunteered for as many executions as possible. You were even promoted and assigned to the East, but you insisted on staying and continuing your involvement in Eldian interrogations.” Ilona raised her eyebrows.

“What do you think of that?” he asked stiffly.

“I think you martyr yourself. You’ve made torture your…version of death. I think…you figured that if these atrocities were continuing, you ought to be the one to face your brothers and sisters, to acknowledge your guilt and drive more knives into your conscience.” Ilona sighed. “Am I wrong?”

Kruger’s face was stricken.

“I know I oughtn’t have spied on you,” she said as tears sprung to her eyes. “I hope you can forgive me. I just…I didn’t want to trouble you with questions. I suppose I was afraid of troubling you.”

“You’re a spy.” Kruger nudged her foot with his. Of course he wished she had spoken to him first. But… “I forgive you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I do,” he said irritably. “But I’m not a selfless person. I execute for my own safety.”

“Then, you execute for your mission. You said so yourself: you and your mission are one and the same. I _admire_ you.”

He shook his head. “It’s not possible to ensure I’m selfless. I’m not the hero you want me to be.”

“I want you to be who you are, as you are.”

“What brought us to this point,” he said, shifting, “was my question regarding the kid. It’s not possible, Ilona, to wipe your selfishness. Occasionally, you’re allowed to indulge. Like you did last night. And today, when you will visit the child you love.”

Ilona’s mouth dropped open.

“Like I spend time with the woman I love,” he added with a smirk.

“Oh, you!” As Ilona elbowed him, she decided to let the matter sink. She just wanted him to know she admired him. “Funny, I’ve already decided the same for the man I love.”

“Please busy yourself while I … drop off.” Kruger wished he could tell her about Werner’s mailbox. But the more diffuse the pieces everyone knew, the safer they were.

“I’ll see you tonight,” she said pointedly, and he nodded.

He was who he was. But, to her surprise, today she trusted him enough not to spy on his secrets, to feel guilt for what she’d already done.

Maybe she was changing for the better. Ilona headed to the poorhouse with a hopeful smile on her face.

 

“How are things at home?”

Zeke gulped. He hated that question. Here, he was the smartest and the strongest. There, he may have been the special one, but he was never special, bright, or strong enough.

He wished he could cry and tell Fischer. “It’s fine.”

“Did you know,” said Fischer, chewing on his lower lip, “it’s been said that ‘fine’ is practically a universal sign that something is wrong?”

“Zeke.” Fischer pushed off the wall to towered above Zeke. “You’re unusually dedicated for someone your age. Fearless yet obedient. I’d like to consider those strengths, but I can’t – and I especially can’t recommend you to keep continuing if I don’t know your motives.”

“What – what do you mean?” Zeke stammered. “I want to give my family a good life.”

Fischer took his hands. “Are your parents forcing you? The army doesn’t need slaves. You’ll need to think on your own when you visit Paradis.”

“I can think on my own. I get good marks.” Tears filled Zeke’s eyes, but he knew not to let them fall. Tears disappointed the military. And he could not disappoint.

“Are your parents mean to you?” Fischer asked bluntly.

“What?” Zeke shook his head. “No. They want me to succeed is all. They care about my mission.”

“Mission?”

“To defend Marley as payment for what my bad people did,” Zeke parroted.

Even Fischer had to cringe at the idea that this sweet boy was concentrated evil. But to question that would be to question Marley, to question history and fact itself. And Fischer did not question fact. “Well said.”

Zeke nodded, relief shining through his glassy blue eyes. “But, Captain Fischer?”

“Yes?”

“I understand why you want to reward us for helping you. But if Marley is right, shouldn’t we want to help you anyways? I want to. It’s only fair.”

“Ah.” Fischer had had this very concept explained to him before the military implemented this program. “Well, you say that now, because you’ve had a very good influence in this school. All Marleyan teachers, all proper history. But were you in an Eldian school, with foolish teachers who distort history, you might already believe yourself maligned and oppressed. Eldians by themselves, as history proved for 1800 years, cannot be trusted. But the more Eldian your influence, the more you think you can trust your hurt feelings because it enhances your pride.” He shook his head sadly. “Yes, there are those who are even proud to be monsters.”

Zeke struggled to comprehend Fischer’s verbose explanation. “I see.”

A terrifying thought occurred to him: perhaps Marley was right. Perhaps his parents couldn’t be trusted.

No. No, no, no. He remembered Father scolding him and Mom nodding in approval, and yes they were unfair, but they weren’t evil. His parents weren’t bad.

But Fischer was a learned man, too, like Father. Zeke shivered. “Can I go now?”

“Of course. Let me walk you home. I apologize for keeping you late again. I just want to make sure your conscience is uncorrupted.” Fischer squeezed Zeke’s hands.

“Zeke!”

As soon as they exited the school building, Zeke nearly collided with Tiberius. “Tiberius! Wait, why are you here?”

Was there trouble? His stomach pounded along with his heart.

Tiberius gaped at Captain Fischer, a smiling man with dark eyes and a feathery mustache. The man who was teaching his friend to sacrifice himself. He scowled.

“No need to be suspicious,” said the man. “Zeke and I were having a pleasant conversation. Is this your friend?”

            “Yes. Our parents are friends, too,” Zeke explained.

“I see.”

“Your parents were worried you were late,” Tiberius blurted.

“Okay.” Zeke tried not to act concerned. “This is Tiberius Berg.”

He took small satisfaction in Fischer’s reaction. _See, I can think for myself. My friend is different from me._

“Ah.” The man’s eyes widened, no doubt recognizing the name. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Captain Ferdinand Fischer.”

“And you,” Tiberius said coolly. “I’ll walk home with Zeke, since I’m sure you have military business to attend.”

“Of course,” said Fischer again. “Well, Zeke, you won’t get in trouble, will you?”

“No,” Zeke said quickly.

“Good. Have a pleasant evening.” Fischer tipped his hat and strode away. So Jaeger was friends with the Berg boy, eh? This didn’t bode well for his favorite pupil.

 

“Finally.” Ilona brushed as much ash out of the way as she could while Kruger shimmied out her chimney. “I was worried; you really should have let me come to you.”

“If I’m seen, I’m not suspicious. It’s not fair to have you risk more than you have to.” Kruger coughed out charcoal. “Though I’m not sure how you do that on a regular basis.”

“Well, I am significantly smaller than you. I’m glad the dogs didn’t eat you.”

“That meat idea does the trick.” He didn’t mention that he’d spent half his weekly pension on it.

“Always.” Ilona grabbed the papers she’d copied from her bed. “Here they are.”

Kruger peered at the pages in the lamplight. “It’s our second dialect, as we call it. A cipher used for higher ups on sensitive information.”

“Like Paradis Island,” Ilona said dryly.

“Yes.” Kruger sank to the carpet and leant against her bed. “Fortunately, I am one of those officers with access.” He pulled a few folded pages from his jacket pocket.

“Here.” Ilona shoved a pen and fresh paper into his hand. “I’ve told the servants I’ve a headache, so they shan’t bother us. Is there anything else I can do?”

“Keep me company.” Kruger flashed her a smile before the cipher absorbed him.

 

Kruger set down the pen with a sigh. “Seems the rumors of the First King using his titan to remove the people’s memories were correct.”

Ilona perched above him, looking down at his translations. “So they’re helpless.”

“They believe all of humanity is extinct except for them.”

Ilona gasped. “That’s so sad!”

“And wicked. They won’t be able to defend against Marley,” Kruger said darkly.

“Someone needs to take this titan, then,” Ilona declared. “From King…Fritz?”

“He can’t be the real king.” Kruger stared up at her. “He’s been king for twenty years. The titan bearers only live about thirteen.”

“What?” Ilona froze. Her voice became shrill. All she could picture was Zeke’s eyes as he pled for his friend. “So we saved those children – Zeke and the others – for them to die anyhow?”

“Everyone’s going to die someday,” Kruger snapped. “They might as well do good and help their countrymen.”

“Without any choice?” Ilona demanded.

“Is _Marley_ giving us a choice?” Kruger’s expression blazed.

Tears pooled in her eyes. “No.”

Kruger wrapped his arms around her. “I hate it, too.”

Ilona heaved a sob. “It’s so unfair. Even if someone tries to find the real king and take his titan – they’ll have to martyr themselves. It’s so unfair.”

“I know.” Kruger rubbed her back, swallowing his own secret. “It’s okay to cry for a few minutes.”

She kissed his cheek. “And then we must determine how to fight back. Getting a person to sacrifice themselves for the founding titan, convincing hundreds of thousands they’ve been brainwashed – it’s almost insurmountable. But not quite.”

“It can’t be,” Kruger agreed. “The problem is to reach the walls, you’d need to be a titan yourself.”

“Zeke?” Ilona asked softly. _No, not him_.

“When the time comes,” Kruger said.

“I wish I could do it,” she muttered. “It’s only fair a Marleyan take the sacrifice. I wish there was a way.”

“I’d rather you live, thank you very much.” Perhaps she had only seen his martyr-like inclinations from her own, inclinations he wasn’t sure he loved or feared her.

“Well, anyone would.” Ilona snorted. “But I’d rather be of use.”

“You have been.” Kruger squeezed her hand. “You’re the best person I know.”

“Funny, that’s how I feel about you,” Ilona shot back. “But ‘best’ does not inherently equal ‘useful.’”

“Well, then perhaps you could have helped decipher the code,” Kruger sassed.

She rolled her eyes and flopped backwards onto her bed. “If I could read your military talk, I would. Why not teach me?”

“Are you so eager to learn?” Kruger eyed her curves lying before him.

Ilona propped herself up on her elbows. “Perhaps.”

“What if we learn something different?” His voice dropped and his mouth rose to meet hers. He wanted every moment he had left with her.

Ilona giggled against him. He bent over her and she rather liked it.

The servants wouldn’t bother her, not if they believed her ill. Ilona dug her mouth into his with a ferocity he hadn’t expected.

“Ilona.” Kruger stayed upright. He didn’t want to pin her down, didn’t want her to think he would even try to persuade her.

She pulled away and peered up at him. “I love you.”

He gave her the most tender of smiles. “I love you, too.”

Her hand stroked his hair, his face, his chest. Her touch was enough to set his pulse hotter than a titan. “You can stay tonight, if you want.”

Kruger’s breath caught. He didn’t want to be presumptuous, even half crouched over her as he was. “You mean…the dogs. They would catch me.”

Her cheeks were now the color of sunrise. “Not just that.”

Kruger caught his breath. He caressed her hair to busy his hands with something, anything. “Are you sure?”

“If you want to,” she whispered, eyes suddenly concerned.

“Of course I do.” His face melted, and his mouth met hers again.

She pulled him onto her and guided his hands inside her corset – her breasts were warm and soft, her heartbeat wild with life. His face burned as he helped her upright so she could shrug off her dress and undergarments.

“You’re beautiful,” he said as she sat before him, her hands still covering herself on instinct.

She removed her hands, fully open and vulnerable for him.

Ilona watched heat fill his cheeks as his pulse hammered in his throat. He desired her, for all she ever was.

Emboldened yet blushing, she reached for his shirt. He sat still, afraid that by breathing he might break this moment, as she unfastened button by button until his chest was once again bare. She ran her fingers down the hair on his chest and he caught them and directed them lower.

Ilona closed her eyes with wonder, as she had when she leapt off a cliff into deep water as a child.

He slid off his boots and the two of them lay side-by-side, naked, free, their hands exploring each other. She gasped slightly.

“Should I stop?”

“No,” she replied instantly, smiling with her eyes in that way only Ilona could.

“May I?” Kruger whispered as his heart quickened.

She nodded. Her eyes shone at him, framed by wild curls.

“Say it?”

“Yes.”

He pressed his lips down against hers and wrapped his taut body around hers.

 

“We shouldn’t,” said Tiberius, crossing his arms.

“Coward.” Sally stuck out her tongue.

“He’s not a coward,” Zeke said instantly.

“I was just teasing.” Anxiety sparked in Sally’s stomach.

“I know,” Zeke said, even though he hadn’t. Ignorance was dangerous. “I still think we can.”

“And I think we should,” Sally said.

“I don’t want to get in trouble.” Tiberius shivered, remembering the last time he’d snuck around Liberio after dark, the night he’d met Ilona.

“But aren’t you curious what Mom is doing?” Sally tugged his hands free.

“Yes, but … ”

“I can get us there without being seen,” Zeke interrupted. He could act on his own and still be useful.

“Guess I’m overruled, then.” Tiberius begrudgingly followed his sister and friend. He had to wonder if moments like these were Zeke’s only means of escaping his burden.

His heart hammered. The Eldians had already been blamed for the Alexandria Disaster despite no evidence. There might be more patrols out.

And what if…they had caused it? Tiberius didn’t like the idea of endangering people. Someday it would backfire. Someday they or Ilona would die.

           

Kruger lay sweating atop Ilona. Their limbs were splayed in a variety of directions, and he was sure he had experienced nothing quite so sacred as being inside her. “You…you’re amazing.”

“As are you.” Their eyes radiated mutual love and acceptance as their lips met yet again. Yet again, one last time before they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

 

A few minutes and several twists and turns later, Zeke lay down before a low, cracked window. “You can see the basement from here.”

He smiled at Tiberius. “I hated being alone.”

Tiberius returned the smile, thrilled to be valued.

Sally scowled. “Will we hear?”

“If we stay quiet,” Zeke whispered.

Below the dusty window, there was a dimly lit room with a solitary table covered in ancient books probably only Zeke could understand. And twenty people, including the Jaegers and now Alma.

“Welcome, sister,” said a blonde man, nodding swiftly at Alma, who nodded back.

This was her life’s meaning. She had been reborn. And damned if she wouldn’t take it seriously. Dina squeezed her elbow.

“Any report on Alexandria?” asked the blonde.

“The Owl doesn’t mention who did it. None of us know, either?” Grisha looked around the room.

 _No’s_ and shaking heads flurried around the room. Alma looked around nervously.

“Does his note contain anything else?” grunted a bearded, middle-aged man.

“Yes…” Grisha sighed. “Marley has decided to punish us by increasing our taxes five percent.”

“Five percent?” exclaimed the blonde.

“Does that surprise you, Grise?” Dina asked dryly.

“No, but…” Grise swore.

Sally’s eyes alighted at the new word as an automatic smirk bloomed on her lips. Zeke had to admire her.

“Language, son,” scolded old man Werner, and Sally clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from snickering.

“Adults don’t change,” Tiberius had to whisper, and Zeke nodded. But his expression changed from amused to sad, and Tiberius mouthed, _you okay_?  
           Zeke nodded quickly as the Restorationalists resumed their conversation.

“They’re also cutting rations for the poorhouse,” said Grisha.

Now Alma jerked. The poorhouse was how she fed her children back when Tiberius drank it all away. The pain burned her, but now she embraced the present over the past. Now she knew she was Ymir’s.

“We shouldn’t let that happen,” said Dina.

“What are you proposing?” Grise turned to her.

Dina glanced towards Grisha. They’d barely had time to talk since the note, but hopefully he’d approve. “I believe that once per week – frequent enough to be useful, infrequent enough to alleviate suspicion – some of us raid the food facility.”

“That’s a bold risk right now,” said the bearded man.

“It’s worth the risk. These are people’s lives,” Dina said.

“I agree,” Alma said quickly. “I’ll even volunteer.”

Grisha eyed her.

“I don’t know. We barely know you. How would you do this?” said a short, dark-haired man.

“I know a Marleyan,” Alma said quickly. “Or, well, my son does. She’s involved in the relief program. I’m sure if I ask the right questions, I’ll figure out how the food storage works.”

“You’ll have to be careful,” said Grisha. But out of all Marleyans, he disliked Ilona the least, so perhaps Alma’s plan would work. And he wanted to encourage her.

“You think it’s a good plan?” Werner turned to Grisha, along with everyone else.

“I do,” said Grisha with a wink towards Dina.

“Mom’s becoming a badass,” Sally whispered.

“Shhhh.”

Zeke recalled Fischer’s warnings on abuse. “I think she’s always been. Even before she joined the restorationalists.”

 

Ilona stirred besides him, and Kruger’s heart raced again.

“Good morning,” he said, turning to her with a smile. He tugged one of her curls, and her cheeks turned pink.

“Eren.” She smiled back, a little nervously.

“Are you okay?” Had he hurt her?

“I’m happy,” she said, snuggling closer to him. “But also a bit frightened. I confess I’ve never done anything like this before. But mostly I am happy. And you?”

“Likewise,” he said. “With the mission…I never thought much about sex, much less ever thought I would want to make love to anyone. I’m in my thirties and I’ve never had a lover – well – until – and then you came along – You ruin everything, you know that?”

“Your face is red,” Ilona noted. “And it’s adorable.”

“Make it redder.” Kruger covered her mouth with his again.

 

 

 

 

 


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kruger confesses another secret to Ilona, Zeke is introduced to baseball, and Gross gets closer to the restorationalists.

Chapter Twelve

 

“Go on, Schwartz!”

“Strike him out!”

“Strike! Strike! Strike!”

“What is that?” Zeke peered at a gaggle of Marleyan children outside the gates. A redhead boy about his age was using a long stick to swing, swing, swing again fruitlessly, at a small ball thrown towards him.

Fischer stopped. “That’s a game. It’s called baseball. See those sacks on the ground in the diamond pattern?”

Zeke nodded. He’d heard of baseball, but knew nothing about it. It was a game for rich Marleyans, not Eldian trash.

“Those are the bases. The goal is to hit the ball and run along the bases until you return home, to the base you started with.”

The redhead missed again and sat back down, passing the stick to a black-haired boy with almond eyes. Partially Eastern, Zeke realized, but accepted among his friends.

He struck the ball and sent it whirring past his fellow players.

“Ooh, he’s strong.” Zeke leaned halfway out the gate. What was it like to belong to one team, one public team? No conflicting loyalties. No secrets.

“Do you want to try?”

“Could we? After school? It wouldn’t be a distraction, would it? I mean, I think it’s build teamwork,” stammered Zeke.

“Yes, I agree. But I also mean now.” Fischer slipped Zeke’s armband off.

“What are you doing?”

“I doubt you’ll be accepted if they see an armband. Don’t worry, you won’t be out of my sight. Come on, it’s okay.” Fischer smiled. “Sports helped me come alive as a child. Think of this as helping bind you to the Marleyans you’ll be saving.”

“Then would it be wrong for me to win?”

“Not if you’re helping other Marleyans win.” Fischer ruffled Zeke’s hair, a move Mom rarely did and Father, never. “Go on.”

 

“So the grains are kept here?” Alma gazed around the burlap bags and bags of wheat and barley.

“Yes, in these bags, needless to say.” Ilona smiled. “I’m so glad you’ve decided to help out.”

“I do what I can. My countrymen are the only family I have. Even if we are mere Eldians,” Alma added quickly.

“I understand.” Ilona rested a hand on a stack of wheat sacks as tall as her shoulders. “But you’re not mere anything.”

Alma cleared her throat. “Tiberius misses you.”

“Yes, I need to see him soon.” Ilona’s heart twisted. But she couldn’t. Because if her hunch was right, her ties to both Tiberius and Kruger would be too risky. “But, Alma. I know.”

“K-know?”

“You’re a friend of the Jaegers, taking impractical but commendable interest about our storage facility at a time when food will become harder to acquire.” Ilona straightened a lopsided stack. “What are you planning? You know we’ve three locks, much more than any facility in Marleyan territory.”

“I – I – I –” Alma didn’t know what to do. Kill her? Bludgeoned with a burlap barley bag? Her kids couldn’t become orphans. She was a terrible mother, but not bad enough to allow her children to lose their mother, too. _Ymir, help me_.

Ilona’s eyes widened with understanding, and she reached for the other woman’s bony hands. “Oh, Alma. I want to help, Alma.”

“What? Us?” Alma shook.

“Yes. You really think I’m satisfied handing out government-regulated supplies that are barely enough? I will help.” Ilona lowered her eyes. The sanctions, after all, were on her and Kruger’s shoulders. Without Alexandria, there would be no sanctions.

“I don’t know that I can trust you.”

“I understand, Alma. But, please, tell me when you’re planning your raid. I’ll meet you here with the keys. Our third lock is impenetrable to lock-picking, so they’ll know someone broke in for sure if you try.”

“There will be three of us coming tonight. I can’t tell you their names.” Alma felt guilt for her haphazard planning, but Ymir would provide. Perhaps Ilona was Ymir’s gift.

“Better that way,” Ilona agreed.

She would have to wait another day to visit Tiberius. With his mother caught up in Eldian restoration, the less links between him and the movement, the safer.

“You look sad,” Alma said.

“I’m sober, and proud of you all,” Ilona said. If only Tiberius and Sally could know her love from a distance.

 

“I can’t believe we won! I helped the Marleyans!” Zeke tossed the baseball up in the air, spun around, and caught it.

“With your aim, you’d make a great pitcher.” Fischer smiled. The sun had retreated beyond the buildings and the air grew cooler with the impending nightfall. “I’m sorry I kept you late again.”

 _Build trust when you find the one, his superiors had told him._ But he didn’t want to ruin that trust if Zeke’s parents hurt him. Not only would that shamble the mission, but he rather liked the kid. If only Zeke weren’t Eldian.

“It’s okay. I learned baseball!” As he snatched the ball from air again, Zeke for once felt proud of his training. In the safety of Fischer’s watch and the thrill of victory, he believed punishment would be worth this.

“We’ll have to start an Eldian group after school.” Fischer ruffled Zeke’s hands again as the Jaeger’s home came into sight. “I’ll see you tomorrow, eh?”

“Yes!” Zeke waved and skipped up to his door. Only when he twisted the doorknob did worry wind itself around his limbs.

“Where the hell were you?” Dina demanded, pressing her hand against her heart.

“Mom.” Zeke’s gaze flickered from her to Father’s stern glare. “I was – I was learning. Extra.”

“Extra learning? Again?” Dina crossed her arms.

“Baseball?” Grisha asked skeptically. “That is learning?”

“It’s fun. It builds teamwork,” Zeke said desperately.

“Teamwork shouldn’t be built for anyone who doesn’t have your best interests in mind, Zeke. These people, even those you’re training with – you have to be better than them. To save them, you’ll have to hurt them. Do you understand how dangerous this is?” Grisha grabbed the baseball.

“But…I _liked_ it.” Zeke’s eyes watered.

Grisha softened. “I know, but we can’t just do the things we like.”

“You do! You like being a doctor and you like leading a rebellion!” Zeke accused. “It’s not fair!”

Dina cringed.

Grisha’s face twisted with agonizing memories. Faye floating mangled in the river, Father happily accepting her fate. “You don’t know anything, Zeke.”

Zeke’s face crumpled and he ran out the door.

“Wait!” cried Dina.

“Zeke!” Father tried to follow him, but Dina grabbed his hand. “Let him cool off.”

           

            _Carla, Eren, please be safe_!

Kruger gasped himself awake from a doze, his pillow damp with tears. _Whose memory is this_?

They’d said his name, but it wasn’t him. He knew no Carla. Unless he had, and he’d forgotten. “Dammit.”

            “What’s wrong?” Ilona wrapped her arm around his shoulder, grounding him back into reality. She’s crept over before her mission tonight, and today he needed her to keep his sanity.

            Kruger swallowed. “Just…a memory.”

            “Your father?” She rubbed his neck, hesitant to mention her other guess. His conscience.

            He shook his head, kept his voice low. “Someone I don’t even know.”

            Ilona frowned, but said nothing. He could tell her in his own time.

“There’s more…there’s so much more you don’t know, Ilona.” Guilt washed over him, but he dared to look back into her eyes.

            Ilona pressed her hand over his heart, leant over so he could see her eyes melting above him. “Tell me.”

            “Have you not guessed?” Kruger laughed harshly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s not your fault.”

Ilona’s smile tenderized. She ran a hand down his bare chest. “Remember how you wanted me to say yes? Even though you knew?”

Kruger swallowed.

“Well, I want you to say this. If Eldians had healing powers, Alma would have never been in a coma.” She pressed herself against him, closer and closer, so he would know he wasn’t alone.

“Do you know of the Coordinate?”

“The myth? Of Eldian connection, titans passed down to babes?”

“It’s true.”

            “Of course it is.” Ilona shook her head. “It’s the reason Marleyans keep certain Eldians imprisoned as their titan dogs. And now we’re brainwashing your children to be _performing_ dogs,” she said bitterly, wiping his tears with her fingers.

Kruger peered up at her. “There are nine titans and we only have seven. You know about the Progenitor, which makes eight.”

Ilona waited. Her smile, fearful and yearning and loving, urged him on.

“I’m the ninth.”

She couldn’t hide the shock of his confirmation. “Eren?”

Kruger looked away, sat up, kept his back to her.

She scowled. “Why are you ashamed? No, don’t answer – we teach you to be ashamed because you can become titans, and you _are_ one. In a manner of speaking.” Ilona sat up herself, running a hand through her curls. “I suppose I wouldn’t blame you for shame, because I’m – well, I was raised with Marleyan beliefs.”

She gasped. “I don’t think worse of you, of course.”

Kruger had feared she’d be disgusted to have kissed and lain with a titan. Not that Ilona would ever judge an Eldian, but sometimes instinct was stronger than humans could handle.

Her saw her golden eyes over his shoulder, calm and reasonable and kind. “Not…not even if I told you the truth?”

“There’s more.” Ilona slid her hand into his, and squirmed her way to sit beside him. “I want the whole truth. Everything from you.”

He leant his head against her shoulder. “I’m dying.”

Ilona jerked. “What?”

“The titan power only lasts thirteen years before it kills its host. I’ve nearly finished year twelve, Ilona.”

“No,” she said, her voice rising. “No, _please_.”

“I thought I was ready, but then you had to – to ruin everything.” Kruger laughed, the only means he could think to release his pain. “I’m sorry. I’m going to hurt you when I go, and I – I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

Ilona sat still, too stunned to cry. When she finally spoke, her voice was ragged. “Is there anything else?”

“No.” Kruger dared to look at her. “You’re angry, aren’t you?”

“Devastated, really. I don’t – it’s too unfair.” Ilona reached a shaking arm out and wrapped it around him. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for you. I love you.”

She wiped his bangs out of his eyes. “I can’t let you go yet.”

“I wish I had the choice.”

“You don’t, but I do.”

Kruger stiffened. “What are you saying?”

“I don’t think I would live without you.”

“No.” His heart pounded. “You have to. Ilona, please. I couldn’t bear it if your life was robbed because of me.”

“I don’t see it as robbery.”

She had always been dangerous, hadn’t she? Always extreme for the most rainbowed of reasons.

“Perhaps,” said Ilona, “You’re worth dying with.”

“And perhaps you’re worth living.”

“Perhaps the truth is both.” Ilona looked at her fingers entwined with his. “I don’t know what I will do. But don’t guilt yourself: whatever I choose, it will be my decision. Because I have been inspired by you. I’ve become more myself with you.”

“You’re the inspiration in my life,” Kruger forced himself to say, because if he didn’t say it now he might not ever. “The reason I see both sides. I’ve – I’ve always felt wrong for thinking that history can’t be black and white, that neither Marley and Eldia are at fault. But after years of killing your father over and over, what can you do but think you’ve sided with a monster?”

He smiled at her. “And then you come along and prove that not everyone is evil. That my hope isn’t in vain.”

“So I’m the balm to your conscience?”

“I’m not sure I have one anymore.”

“You do. Or you wouldn’t have mentioned your guilt.” Ilona blinked back tears. “You’re an incredible man, you know.”

“I should let you go.” His lips trembled.

“No.” Tears spilt down her cheeks. “Don’t ever let me go.”

She felt the warmth of his calloused palm on hers and tightened her grip to savor every sensation while she still could.

“So you’re dying quicker than I. You’re alive now, and I love your life.” Ilona drew in her breath as his lips latched onto her chest. “You’re silly if you think death can stop us.”

Kruger’s lips met hers again. _This world is all we have. Fuck devils and heaven and love. All that matters is changing_ now. Oh, he’d told those words to new recruits of soldiers and restorationalists alike.

            “I know,” he whispered as he felt her arms around him, her hands roaming down his back, her love covering his fears.

            He’d been wrong his entire life. And he was glad.

Sergeant Major Gross was a grumpy man at all times, but tonight more than others. That damn Kruger had suggested they take Alexandria last week. But please, Gross knew better. Kruger intended to spoil his fun.

They were after a far wilier leader than someone dumb enough to revisit the storehouse they’d exploded. Kruger intended to spoil his fun!

So if he had to patrol Alexandria last week, he sure was going to watch Liberio this week. After all, sleep deprivation out here, in the throes of power, was better than listening to his fat wife snore.

He’d wait every night if he had to.

But now he had to prowl outside, like a cat stalking a beam of light. Nothing.

Moments like this, he wondered, lost in a sea of floating life.

And then his dogs unleashed a whine.

“What? What is it?” Gross eagerly rubbed the bitch’s face. His newest, and already the best.

A rat ran scurried in front of him, and a grin rose on Gross’s face as the dogs pounced on the shrieking vermin. For once, _something_! More, he wanted more.

 

Across the street from Alma’s apartment, Ilona stiffened as a familiar figure slunk towards their door. She was upon him before he’d even noticed.

“Zeke, what are you doing here?”

He turned up his tear-stained face. “I want to find Tiberius and Sally.”

“What’s wrong?” Ilona loosened her grip.

“Why are you dressed like that?” Silently cursing himself for not espying her, Zeke now scrutinized her disheveled clothing. “Are you helping tonight?”

She ought to say ‘maybe,’ even to an innocent child. Kruger would. But Ilona still found herself saying “I am.”

“That’s good.” Zeke’s stomach fluttered as Fischer’s words echoed in his mind. _No one should suffer in their family_. If his Marleyan teacher was kinder than his father, who was truly in the right?

“Why aren’t you home?”

“You’re busy.”

“I can always spare time for someone who needs it.”

“Well, I don’t,” Zeke blurted. “I’m fine. I just want to keep Tiberius and Sally company while Alma’s out.” He forced a shaky smile.

“You didn’t, but I understand wanting to confide in your friends rather than an adult.” Ilona squeezed his shoulder. “Just know you can always talk to me, okay?”

Her and Fischer, Tiberius and Sally. Zeke had four people.

“You’d best hide behind the stairwell so Alma doesn’t see you.” Ilona winked.

He returned her hug without his usual reserve, and she wanted nothing more than to keep these children safe forever.

 

Gross wandered closer to Liberio, his knuckles white from restraining the dogs.

The rat wasn’t enough. He wanted to feel alive. He’d spend the day clapping at his son’s appointment as a lawyer, dammit. Nothing like ceremony to make one feel dead.

 

“What’s wrong?” Tiberius grabbed Zeke by his shoulders.

“My f-father is so mean,” he sobbed.

“What?” Sally blinked.

“He’s mad at me because Captain Fischer likes me.” Zeke wiped his eyes. “But Fischer is nicer than him!”

“Is he keeping you late again?” Tiberius queried.

“Yes, and it’s one of the few times I feel happy.” Zeke wrapped his arms around his legs. If – if Father knew what else he’d done – writing Ilona, telling Tiberius about his mission, leading them to the meeting – Father despise him. “I wish I were dead.”

“Zeke, don’t say that!” Tiberius grabbed his friend’s hand.

“No. Let him.” Sally scowled.

“Sally!”

“You think you have it tough?” Sally shoved Zeke, hard, and hard again. For a citizen child younger than he, she was exceptionally strong. “Ha! Does your Father beat up your Mom? What, are you upset because you have to save the world? What a load of horsecrap!”

“Sally!” Tiberius gasped.

“You stay out of it! You don’t know anything!” Sally yelled. “He whines that his Father cares too much and that he has to do great things! Pathetic! I hate you both!”

She cut herself off, her eyes bloodshot from shrieks. For a moment, Sally wished she could take all of it back, but she couldn’t. And now she hated herself, too.

So she ran to her room.

“Don’t leave,” Tiberius cried as Zeke fled for the door. “She’s wrong! Wait! Don’t leave!”

Now Zeke had two people.

 

 _Stay safe_ , Alma had told her.

In return, Ilona had restrained herself from asking to accompany her home to see children who should be asleep, but likely not given who they were. But now, with the plump figure just beyond the gate whose guard was too engrossed in his book to bother distracting, Ilona wished she’d waited.

She cursed to herself and wiped grain remnants off her shirt. Surely the dogs would only be attracted to blood, not her. Kruger – Gross wasn’t supposed to be here.

For a moment, she panicked. Had she been set up?

No, Eren would never. Ilona took a deep breath. She merely needed to cross the street, slip up the alley beside the bakery Tiberius had broken into so long ago, so close ago, and climb the vines to the roof of Handel’s Linens. That gross man would never find her, and she would see Eren for coffee tomorrow morning.

 

His dogs didn’t so much as sniff. But the movement of a shadow in the moonlight caught Gross’s attention, away from the ghetto.

With a longing glance towards his favorite theater, Gross yanked on the leashes. One of the dogs howled, and Gross grinned.

He knew these streets. If he took the alley through Frenier, he’d arrive to the top of the stairs first. He could cut the monster off. And then the fun would begin.

 

“That’s it for you!”

Ilona gasped at the plump, short man above her. She began to back away, but the dogs surrounded her. So, he’d let them off their leash. Illegal, but then so was murder.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Miss Minsk. Yes, I know who you are. Don’t think I haven’t been investigating. Or is it a street ragamuffin with Eldian sympathies? And now I have proof.” Gross’s eyes glimmered.

Ilona rolled her eyes. “I’m hardly afraid of a peacock like you.”

“I wouldn’t dismiss me so lightly.” Gross’s smile sickened her.

“Lightly? I think I did not take the child you tried to kill lightly.”

“What are you doing out in the same area? Got a lover, rich girl?” Gross sneered, stepping closer.

“Looking for a victim, bastard?” She didn’t move. He would not intimidate her.

His eyes narrowed, but not from spite as she’d expected. “What’s that?”

“What?”

Gross pounced on her, yanking down her shirt for a better look.

“Get off me!” She kicked him and he obliged.

“So you do have a lover.”

“That’s none of your business.” Ilona reclaimed her footing.

“It is if I have reason to believe he may be Eldian.” Gross gestured to the gates of Liberio behind them, never taking his eyes off her. “Which gives me reason to arrest you.”

“You’ve got nothing except hatred for them and me!” Ilona knew the law better than Gross. “You couldn’t find someone else to bully, so you think you can intimidate me. Such a dedicated officer.”

“You’ll regret that.” He smiled greedily, whistled and pointed towards her.

His dogs immediately faced her with a growl.

She was scared. Ilona hated to admit it, but she was. She had no more meat. “Arrest or murder?”

“I’d love for both.” She was a powerful insect, and he needed her ended. But the plan unfolding before him, should it work, would provide pleasurable memories for years.

“But since I don’t trust your cooperation –” He snapped his fingers.

Ilona cried out as his pack leapt forward. She staggered forward, anywhere – but the dogs, the dogs had their teeth in her limbs and their bodies wrapped around hers. “Ah!”

Then one of them ripped into her calf, and with a gasp, Ilona collapsed onto the cobblestones.

“Perfect.” Gross whistled again and the dogs backed off. Metal clicked around her wrists, but she had no more will to protest. Not now.

And then a needle slipped into her neck, and she tried to scream, but much like a nightmare, couldn’t remember how.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeke and Kruger launch separate plans to free Ilona.

**Chapter Thirteen**

**We’ve reached chapter thirteen, which is fitting because there’s some dark content here. Trigger warnings for torture and sexual assault.**

“Mayor Minsk, there’s a Sergeant Major who insists on seeing you.” Della, a recent secretary hire, trembled before the council.

Dieter promised himself to reassure her later. “We’re about to start our meeting.”

“I’ve informed him, but he says it’s about – I mean – there – there’s a prisoner with him whom he says is a traitor.” Della had briefly dated Malcolm Gross, son of that horrid man. Even if the prisoner were an Eldian, she must be suffering horribly. She _had_ to convince the mayor to see them.

“This is all very unusual,” said a plump, elderly councilman. “Why not bring the prisoner to prison?” He chuckled at his own joke.

“I’d imagine there’s a reason he’s not.” Dieter paused. “Well, Della, I suppose we’ll have to see him. Thank you.”

Della nodded and scampered out of the room.

He came in, dragging a pathetic prisoner peppered with bruises and bloody bites. “My dogs caught this bitch by Liberio early this morning. Not the first time she’s been spotted.”

Goodness, she looked like Ilona, shoved down to her knees, her black curls flying every which way. Dieter’s heart softened. “I’d say she’s paid for whatever petty crimes she’s committed.”

All this, just for breaking curfew? He’d need to have a talk about proper treatment of prisoners with these officers, _again_.

“Petty isn’t the word I’d use.” Gross ripped back the young woman’s hair, forcing her swollen face into the light.

A councilwoman gasped, but then the room grew deathly quiet.

The mayor’s hands began to shake. “Ilona?”

She wanted to speak, but she couldn’t quite – quite form the words. He’d – he’d done something – maybe – help – the _needle_ –

“This has to be a mistake!”

“It’s no mistake. Your daughter’s long been a suspect in the break out of Liberio District, and she’s been spotted there many a time after dark. Not to mention that a female Marleyan’s blood was discovered the same night as the break-out. I’m willing to bet it’s hers.”

“Being attacked hardly makes her a traitor. Maybe she was investigating her own attack,” snapped Councilwoman Japes. The lengths to which these officers would go for recognition!

Dieter’s face was purple. “She helps people there –”

“Not at night. At night, she helps herself.” With one yank, the Sergeant ripped his daughter’s tattered blouse, exposing not only her left breast, but an array of bruises no one could mistake.

“Don’t touch my daughter like that.” The mayor rose, eyes flashing. “I don’t care what she’s done.”

“I had an illicit lover myself when I was young,” joked Councilman Adler uneasily, not that anyone would have expected otherwise with his reputation.

“An _Eldian_ lover?”

The room crystalized. Every molecule of air bit into him. Dieter raised his voice. “I trained her better than that. You have no evidence.” _Grasping scum._

But he’d also trained her better than – than this…

“Ilona.” He rushed over to her, and even Gross knew better than to get in his way. “I don’t care what you’ve done. Deny this, and let’s be on our way.”

Ilona stared at him without blinking. Her pupils were disturbingly dilated, and Dieter felt the strange urge to rip Gross’s throat out with his own fingers.

“Do you understand me?” Dieter shrugged off his jacket and slipped it around her shoulders. “Please. I – I can’t bear to see you like this.”

“She can’t deny what’s true,” Gross murmured.

“Who’s your lover, girl?” Adler interrupted.

Everything came back into focus now. Ilona’s face flushed, and she fought the urge to vomit. She had to answer, but her muscles felt all limp. “I…”

“Are you…engaging in relations with an Eldian?” Dieter felt sick for even asking such a thing.

She closed her eyes. She just wanted this over. Nothing felt right anymore. “No.”

“Unfortunately, lies. I’m sure an examination in your body would confirm it.” Gross snapped his fingers. “Shall we?”

“Here?” Councilwoman Rosen gaped at him.

Ilona’s heart pounded. To be stripped and violated in front of her father and the council and Father –

Fear found her voice. “Please!”

Ilona never begged. Dieter’s voice trembled. “Daughter.”

Her face crumpled, but she forced herself to look Father in his eyes, as he deserved. “It’s true.”

“No.” Minsk stepped back.

Tears filled her eyes.

“Who is he?!”

A sob rose in her throat. _I wanted to tell you_. “The man I love. I can’t say more and I won’t say more and I _shouldn’t_ _have_ to say more.”

Ilona hiccupped. “They’re people; _how can you sit up here in your plated council room and ignore them_?!”

The mayor’s hand struck her so swiftly she never saw him move.

“I…I can’t,” said Dieter. He wanted to faint himself. In front of the Council. “I can’t protect you, Ilona.”

“What would you have us do?” Councilwoman Japes hesitated. His daughter was clearly sick in the head. Surely no one would mind if he –

“Carry out the proper penalty.” The mayor’s voice broke, and he couldn’t look as a pleased Gross hoisted his daughter to her feet and pulled her away.

“Well, someone ought to look into that man, too,” said Adler.

“We’ll put people on all her acquaintances,” snapped Dieter.

Adler choked. “No, I meant that Sergaen Major Gross. Did you not see your own daughter’s condition?”

 _Of course I did_! Dieter wanted to scream, but he was too nice a man.

 

“We’ve a blood traitor coming today,” said Lenin, scanning the documents in his hand.

“Traitor?” Kruger raised an eyebrow.

“Some slut caught last night. Apparently a Marleyan who decided to take an Eldian lover,” he said with a shiver. “I just don't understand how someone could be _attracted_ to those monsters. Much less act on it.”

“They look like exactly like us,” Kruger said dryly. If he had to torture this woman, could he ever look Ilona in the eyes again?

“Knowledge can spoil sight.”

“I suppose.”

“Gross is already calling dibs on her.” Lenin rolled his eyes. “Can’t imagine why you’d want to be with someone who was fucking Eldians, but I suppose he thinks some Marleyan men can ‘correct’ her.”

Now Kruger really wanted to vomit. Even if he couldn’t stop some of the horrors awaiting this woman, he could certainly stop Gross from forcing himself upon her. Yes.

“She’ll have to go to the breeding program, of course. I don’t think we have records of a Marleyan _woman_ before. Usually it’s our men we pay to fuck their quality women prisoners. It’ll be curious to see what kind of children this bitch produces, won’t it?” Lenin tapped his pad of paper.

“You’ve long known my thoughts on that program.”

“Don’t hinder science. They’re not like us, and she’s clearly beyond all hope, or they would give her another chance.” Lenin shrugged. “Maybe she’s a hag who couldn’t get any Marleyan lovers?”

He snickered as the door swung open and Kruger fantasized about shoving him off the Paradi wall alongside Gross.

And then his breath stopped.

Ilona’s dark curls were matted around her head, and there were bruises and bites – dog bites – all over her body, but her silhouette was unmistakable.

Gross dragged her forward. “Well, well, well, look here, Kruger: Ilona Minsk, the Mayor’s daughter. I think you’ll recall her.”

She didn’t meet his gaze. She couldn’t. The drugs were wearing off, and she was only will now. From her stiff shoulders and clenched jaw, resistance oozed from her. But that would all break if she saw him.

No – no – this could not be happening. Not Ilona. Kruger hadn’t even fainted when his father had burned before him, but now he very well feared he would.

“You’re our toy now, you little slut,” said Gross, pinching her breast. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for a Marleyan? No one will speak for you here – will you, men?”

Ilona jerked away. She didn’t belong to him, whatever he did or said.

“Don’t think I want to _speak_ ,” said Yates, and many guards laughed, though Lenin, finally faced with a face, found himself terrified.

Anger finally propelled Kruger into action. “I speak for her.”

She bit her lips to keep from crying. Not him.

“What?” Gross’s mouth dropped. Of all people, she’d insulted Kruger most. He should be _grateful_ they had her.

“She’s for _Eldians_ , not you. We’ll put her in a jail cell as necessary and let her be whilst we decide the best interrogation technique. _Now_ , Gross.” Kruger grabbed her by the elbow and yanked her to his side.

“That’s right,” Lenin said shakily, grateful for his superior’s intervention. “We can’t risk her having our children instead of theirs – it’d ruin the science.”

“Fine enough.” Gross rolled his eyes. “ _I_ already had some fun in the prison wagon. Don’t worry, Lenin, not the kind to ruin your science.” He winked.

Ilona stared at the floor, somewhere else, but not here.

Kruger froze. For a moment, he imagined transforming right then and there, squishing Gross of all his guts and throwing him a hundred feet in the air.

Instead he clenched his jaw and guided Ilona into a cell, shutting the door behind them.

Her blank expression didn’t change. She was somewhere else, somewhere safer. Hell, perhaps.

“Listen to me.” Kruger gripped her shoulders. “Your sentence will not happen. I promise, even if it costs me my mission.”

 

“Is there nothing we can do?” Dina’s voice dropped.

Grisha shook his head. “We hope it doesn't spill over onto us. That’s all we can do.”

“But she was so kind. I don’t care if she was Marleyan,” Dina said, hugging herself. “She…she must be strong enough to resist whatever they do to her. If she could resist their prejudice enough to help us, she can withstand their interrogations. Alma can’t be hurt again.”

“I hope so,” Grisha said, wrapping an arm around his wife. “That’s why we’re in this, I guess. To help people like her who suffer as as we do.”

Dina nodded. “I had no idea she was Minsk’s daughter, though. We ought to have talked more about our pasts, if it weren’t dangerous.” She chuckled darkly. “I yearn for that day. When we can be who we are without fear.”

“We’ll make it so,” Grisha promised, kissing her cheek. Likely he would not live to see that day, but maybe Dina, and certainly Zeke.

“Mom? What are you doing in Father’s shop now?” Zeke frowned as he entered the store.

Dina wiped her eyes. “Just talking, sweetie.”

“What’s wrong?” Zeke’s heart beat faster. Was Father still angry from yesterday? He’d not mentioned it this morning, and Zeke hated not knowing.

“Nothing much,” Father said.

“I see,” Zeke said, resigned to more anxiety.

The door burst open. “Zeke!”

“Sally?” Dina gasped.

Zeke eyed her silently.

“Mom’s in a panic. She said Ilona got arrested.” Tiberius gripped his sister’s shoulder.

“Ilona?” Zeke’s mouth dropped.

“She fell in love with an Eldian,” said Tiberius, his eyes misty at the romance of it all.

“So they arrested her, but not him,” Sally said crossly.

“They can’t find him,” Dina said.

“That – that’s not fair!” cried Zeke.

“It _sucks_ ,” snapped Sally.

“Language,” Grisha said automatically.

“Grisha.” Dina threw him a sour glance.

“We don’t know how to help her. Can – can you?” Tiberius looked to Grisha and Dina, the only parent figures he had ever really known.

“Not without casting suspicion on us all,” said Grisha miserably. He felt callous, but he _did_ care. He _wanted_ to help her. He wished he could.

Zeke felt lightning through his heart. He could. He could.

“Do you need me to come speak to Alma?” Dina asked.

“No,” Tiberius said softly. “We just wanted to talk to your family.”

Dina crossed the room and wrapped her arms around him and Sally. “You’re always welcome here.”

When she pulled away, Zeke threw his arms around Sally.

“I’ll help,” he whispered in her ear.

Sally’s eyes were as large as moons as he pulled away. Zeke had hugged _her_ before Tiberius. “I – I’m sorry I yelled at you last night.”

“It’s okay,” Zeke said awkwardly.

“It’s not.” Tiberius gasped as Zeke hugged him tight. What had Zeke said to Sally to change her mind?

When his friends had left, Zeke said, “I think you should go anyway.”

“Go?” Grisha blinked.

“Alma seems to be better,” Dina said. “But she’s been through so much. You know, I think you’re right Zeke.”

“No,” Grisha said.

“Pardon?” Dina turned to face him, hands on her hips.

“Alma was with Ilona last night. You don’t want ot throw yourself into suspicion, too,” Grisha pressed.

Zeke’s mouth dropped.

            Dina drew a deep breath. “Grisha, if we don’t support our wounded, who will?”

            “I’m worried about you and Zeke. Think of them,” Grisha said.

            “It’s a risk I’m happy to take,” Dina replied. “Like I did when I joined your little group, eh?”

            Grisha’s shoulders slumped. “I suppose.”

            She pressed her lips to his forehead. “Don’t worry. I’ll be discreet, sweetheart.”

            _He’s not sweet. He’s mean, and hypocritical_ , Zeke thought. “Can I come, Mom?”

            “No,” Mom and Father said at once.

            Mom reached for her shawl. “You keep Father company now, okay, Zeke?”

            _No! It’s not okay! We have to help Ilona and Alma!! Both of them! We can’t choose if we’re the good ones!_ Zeke clenched his fists. He’d meant what he told Sally. _If they don’t, I will._

            Because Ilona was one of those people who truly cared for him. She was one of the good ones, Marleyan or not. He would not abandon her.

 

“Help her. But I can’t.” Alma clenched her fists. _Ymir, what do I d_ o?

“Your faith is strong,” Dina observed.

“That’s comforting,” Alma admitted. “I’m less concerned about me than I am about my kids.”

“Of course. I understand.” Dina closed her eyes. What would happen to Zeke if she and Grisha were gone? Grisha’s parents were completely dominated by Marley.

“They can’t go to an orphanage. They’d turn out just like – like me, before Ymir. They’re too young.” Alma’s eyes were bright with tears.

“I’d take care of them,” Dina promised.

Ah, Dina was her first choice. Alma smiled tightly. As her second choice had been taken from her today, she had no other option but to hope that Dina would not be associated with her. “You should go, for your sake.”

“You are worth a risk, sister of Ymir,” said Dina, embracing Alma.

“As are you. So go.” Alma returned the embrace.

Ymir couldn’t be so cruel to take all her kids hope, could she?

 

“Well? Zeke, what is it you wish to talk about?” Fischer sat across from him the next morning. No other pupils were here this early. Concern tugged at his mind. “Are you avoiding home?”

“No, no,” Zeke stammered. “I just – I think I heard something about Miss Minsk being arrested, and I know her, and I like her, so I wanted to know what happened.”

“Ah.” Fischer sighed. “She’s a sweet girl. It’s a shame. Probably more naiveté than malice towards her race, but she’ll be treated as a traitor regardless.”

“What about the man?”

“We haven’t found him. Can’t examine all Eldian men, can we?” Fischer shrugged.

“Is there anything that can free her?” Zeke pressed.

Fischer cocked an eyebrow. “She committed a grave crime, Zeke.”

“Y-Yes, I know, but I like her.”

“People we like can do terrible things, Zeke.”

Yes, like Father. Never understanding him. Zeke shivered for a moment, then fought for composure. He couldn’t believe what he was about to do. He felt as though he were watching himself from the corner across the room.

“What if I told you … I know … I mean, I overheard where the Eldian fighters are going to strike next … in exchange for Ilona being freed?” Zeke stared at his hands.

Fischer regarded him seriously. “Zeke, not sharing such information is also tantamount to treason. Though you’re a child, you’d receive the same treatment she would.”

“I know, and I would tell you anyways,” Zeke burst out. “I just don’t know the person who said it, and I’m worried you won’t believe me on that.”

“You don’t know the person?”

“No. He was tall and wore a hat. And glasses, thick glasses.” Zeke’s face was bright red. “The other guy was short and – and redheaded. He had all these freckles. I overheard them outside my dad’s shop. They said ‘the granary last night, next week the bakery.’”

“Which bakery?”

“Werner’s is the biggest, but that’s all I heard. They saw me and moved away.”

Fischer tried to keep the skepticism from his face. _Let the boy evolve_. This was a good first, incomplete step towards his freedom. “I see.”

So the Eldians would steal from their own. They were like untrained sewer rats. Only the kids before them had hope. “A week is the only timeframe you have?”

“Yes,” Zeke said hopelessly.

“Could you sketch their faces?”

Zeke gulped. “I – I could try.”

“Good. We’ll need you to.”

“Isn’t there anyway this could help Ilona?” Zeke pled. “I – Fischer, you don’t understand. She shows me kindness when no one else did. Before I knew you or Tiberius and Sally. I need her.”

“Kind people can commit the gravest sins.” Fischer paused. “Zeke, are you really willing to betray all your comrades, the hope of Eldia and Marley, to be imprisoned and interrogated yourself to save her?”

“I – someone has to,” he said miserably, lowering his eyes. “But I don’t want to. I love Marley. You’ve given me so much. But you also taught me to be willing to give my life to defend Marley, and I want to do that here. She is Marleyan, after all – I mean, if she were Eldian, I couldn’t.”

His eyes pooled. “I learned my lessons, Fischer. I believed you. Let me do this.”

What a treasure this child was. Fischer placed his hands on Zeke’s shoulders. “No.”

“Why?” Zeke’s tears spilled over.

“Don’t cry. Because I won’t let you be lost to prison. But as a reward for your faith, I _am_ going to work with a few others to get Miss Minsk out.” Sergaent Major Kruger, for instance, had long opposed the breeding program.

“We could say you overheard her lover too, perhaps.” Fischer nodded. Zeke needed to trust him. For the good of Marley. “That might work. Of course all our soldiers would rather blame an Eldian than a Marleyan. And the Mayor is a powerful ally.”

“I’ll work with a sketch artist,” Zeke said eagerly, even as panic set in. If he made up a face, no one would find her lover, and she’d remain in prison.

 

“Yes, I imagine this is a difficult time for you,” said Kruger, in the mayor’s office at the same time Zeke was confessing to his teacher. “And that is precisely why I am here. Sergeant Major Eren Kruger, sir.”

From Mayor Minsk’s face, he evidently recognized the name. “Yes, you’re the partner of Sergeant Major Gross, am I right?”

Kruger paused, taking in the indignation and suffering before him. For all the evil permitted by the Mayor, he loved his daughter. “I am.”

“You’ll have to – have to forgive me for my personal feelings of animosity. Of course I pity no Eldians; I assure you, I stand against their threat.”

“Stop.” Kruger held up his hand. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me.”

The mayor hesitated. “Did you know her?”

“We met once or twice. I remember her as a kind, proper woman. Her faults aren’t faults of treason or murder; they’re faults of sympathy gone too far.” Kruger met the Mayor’s eyes. “We ought to help her.”

“Have you a plan?”

“Her reputation’s gone, sir, and possibly yours. But _she_ need not be.” Kruger pressed his fingertips together. “A Marleyan in good standing ought to marry her, and quick.”

“But you yourself said everyone knows she was off whoring with an Eldian.”

“She was not whoring. Your daughter seems a person who’d never do anything without passion. Misguided is her sin, sir.” Kruger cleared his throat. “And that is why someone ought to display forgiveness to her. She is not our enemy.”

The mayor was catching on. “And that man would be you?”

“I am willing to set such an example, yes.” Kruger turned his body to stone, lest all be revealed. “Severity towards Eldians stirs people like your daughter’s sympathies. We must show that those who can be redeemed ought to be, or more will fall.”

The mayor didn’t like it. Briefly he wondered if this Kruger had organized this so he could marry a pretty rich lady.

But then he thought of Ilona and all the manners in which the guards could deign to correct her. Nausea rose within him. “Let’s move quickly, then.”

 

**Look, I’ll be honest. I don’t intend to treat assault as sensation or plot device, and I hope I have not alienated anyone. It’s just, given what we know about how Marley treats prisoners (and a few lines about Dina), I don’t think it was realistic to avoid the subject.**


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**was realistic to avoid the subject.  
Chapter Fourteen**

**Trigger warnings for PTSD and sexual assault.**

 

“This is the face we’re looking for?” The wind blew Miller’s cigarette smoke straight into his eyes. A shaggy-haired man with dark blonde or light brown hair and an almost ape-like face. Good grief, this could be anyone.

“For now,” said Fischer.

“Who’s your witness? And why are you speaking to bottomfeeders like me?” Miller smirked at his childhood friend, but he did genuinely wonder. He’d not spoken with Fischer in months.

Fischer shifted. “Because I know you’ve frequented Liberio with Miss Minsk. And I’d rather the officers not know should my source turns out to be false.”

“One of your kids?” Miller tossed his cigarette to the cobblestones and ground it with his foot.

“I can’t say,” said Fischer instead. Zeke didn’t need to be scared off yet. Besides, he was protecting his reputation, not his kid. Right?

“Very well.” Miller peered at Fischer. “Say, what’s wrong?”

Fischer groaned and rubbed his face with his hands. “We want to take the world back from monsters, right?”

“Yes,” Miller said uncertainly.

“Do we? Because we live in a world where these precious kids could be trained to hate who they are so they can change, but instead we’re raising them like they’re hateful but _special_ , just for slaughter.”

“We live in a world where women can be raped without consequence because of race, so did you expect any different?” Miller laughed with the sound of broken glass. “Fuck.”

“I need to keep my mission clear,” Fischer decided. Pity for Eldians was understandable, but misplaced. They were enticing sinners, these Eldians.

“Obviously,” said Miller, his heart fluttering. “I’ll keep an eye out for this hairy dude.”

“Thank you, Miller.”

“But I’ll say I’ve not seen him, especially not near Miss Minsk.” Miller shook his head. “I doubt the charges are even true. Gross just bored of Eldian pets and she was weak enough to lay into his hands.”

 _Weak_ was not Ilona, but Miller hated to think otherwise.

“Most likely, yes. Men like Gross – they’re the reason I have regrets.” Fischer eyed Miller. “You know?”

“I do.” Miller drew in the pallid city air, wishing for another cigarette. Something different.

 

The mayor waited outside, his own heart breaking. He’d sent her here, to this dank and dusty torture chamber.

Kruger cracked open the cell door.

A hunched figure sat in the center, chained to a pillar. There were no lights in Marleyan cells. No sound could enter, either. The strongest men might fall apart and the weakest women stand strong. No one knew before they entered.

Her name rose in his throat, but he couldn’t dare form the words. He was the reason she’d suffered.

She looked up then, and he saw a spark of defiance that evaporated as soon as she recognized him. Now shame clouded her face, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t cover her soul.

She was bloody and bruised and covered in dirt and the shame of horrible memories. And she wanted nothing more than to forget and hide herself, but she couldn’t.

Instead she trembled, as if every shadow were a knife. Did he think she was afraid? No, she was angry – she was more than Gross had used her for –

He stumbled to his knees besides her and peeled off his shirt to cover her tattered one. Whatever she wanted – covering, safety, his confession – he would give.

She jerked away at his touch, and Kruger choked on tears. “Ilona, I’m so sorry.”

_She glared up at him. “Don’t touch me.”_

She stared down at the weeping man kneeling before her.

“I’m sorry; I’m so sorry.”

_“You’re all mine now. Daddy’s not going to protect you this time; he said so himself.”_

_The cart stopped, but no one moved. Ilona had the sickening suspicion that they were in an alley rather than the jail._

_His hands were roaming down her trousers, and every touch made her wan to shriek, because with her hands tied she couldn’t stop him. No – there had to be a way. She fished for every molecule of resolve in her body, but her words still came out jumbled. “You don’t have to do this.”_

_“Have to? No, but I can, and who wouldn’t indulge now and then?” He waved his hand, squirming with excitement._

_Then he nodded, and the guard held down her shoulders as he stepped closer, pressing his plump waist against her face until she could barely breathe._

_Oh, but begging was for Father, not for him._

_“Does it bother you?” Ilona asked, forcing a smile, forcing belief. “That no matter how hard you force me, you’ll never touch my spirit?”_

_And he_ smiled, _and the guard forced her mouth open so she couldn’t even say one last ‘no.’_

_So she froze every muscle in her body, because she would not reward them with a scream._

The words exploded from her. “You _know_ I never –”

“Of course I know! You never would, and even if you did, I don’t care.” Kruger gripped her hand, and now she finally let herself cry.

She nearly shrieked. “But I didn’t!”

“I _believe_ you. _I’m so sorry._ I’ll explain everything later,” he said, wrestling the key into her chains. “But you’re free now, and I’m going to marry you, and you’re going to be okay, I _promise_.”

 _No, I’m not. I’m not okay._ She could still _feel_ him in her. Her skin crawled, and she wanted nothing more than to amputate her hips and throat.

Father, of all people, and Mom – they were both waiting there, outside her cell. Ilona nearly collapsed, but Kruger tightened his arm around her.

Mom pressed a hand to her mouth to suppress a sob, but Father didn’t even attempt to hide his regret. “Ilona.” He turned to Kruger. “Did you explain?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ilona, you have to go with him, but I’ll be there soon, I promise. It’s the only way. I – I can’t forgive myself –”

“This isn’t about _you_.” Raina found her voice, and reached out, shakily, to brush her daughter’s bruised cheek.

“Ilona. I love you. There is nothing that you could do to make me think less of you, okay?” Her voice cracked. “Whatever happened, I’m proud of you even now.”

Ilona touched Kruger’s arm to halt him, a familiar touch that piqued Raina’s interest, though she said no more.

Her daughter’s bloodied lip, bruised eye and swollen cheek consumed Raina. “Whatever happened was _not your fault_.”

She had to say it. Stared straight at them. “They raped me.”

Dieter let out a cry, and Kruger gripped her tighter, but Raina’s love and fury never changed.

“I know. _We_ know,” said Raina. “We’ll – we’ll get justice. I promise.”

But how? They all knew the law did not forgive women like Ilona. But like hell would Raina be stopped by the law.

A minister stepped forward, clad in his royal blue smock. She hadn’t even noticed him. “Eren Kruger, do you take this woman to be your wife?”

Kruger’s eyes were on Ilona alone. Kind eyes, thought Reina with relief.

“Yes.”

“Ilona Minsk, do you take this man to be your husband?”

This was it? Marriage? In a dank and dingy jail that smelled of urine and decay? Of course.

“You have to say yes,” Dieter prodded.

“No,” Ilona said, “I don’t have to. But I do.”

 

“She’s out!” Sally raced up to Zeke and threw her arms around him. She’d grabbed Tiberius and ran to Zeke’s school as soon as Mom had told them. “I don’t know what you did, but you’re amazing, Zeke!”

“What? Already?” Zeke gaped at her. Fischer hadn’t mentioned it. He must not know.

Zeke sagged against Tiberius. Treason was worth it. “Thank Ymir.”

Tiberius hugged a reluctant Zeke, swarmed with desire to protect his brave friend. Zeke was the knight of fairy tales for Eldia, but Tiberus wanted to be the knight for Zeke. “You sound like my mother.”

Zeke squawked. “What?”

“She’s like a new person since joining the Restorationalists,” Tiberius whispered, releasing his embrace.

“Mostly good,” said Sally.

“Maybe,” said Tiberius. “But being forced to pray to Ymir every night is a bit much.”

“Prayers worked,” said Sally.

“No, _Zeke_ worked,” countered Tiberius.

“Maybe both,” said Zeke uncomfortably, afraid of more arguments.

“I guess,” said Sally. “I hate them. They’re spreading rumors that she loved an Eldian like it’s a _bad_ thing.”

“How romantic,” Tiberius said wistfully, though realistically he knew Marley needed an excuse besides ‘Marleyan realizes Marley is Wrong,’ and her love was probably limited to caring for Eldian children.

“I wish it were true. She’s like a princess,” said Zeke. “Can you imagine? An Eldian-Marleyan marriage?”

“It’s be like a fairy tale,” Tiberius agreed. Sally rolled her eyes, but the two boys remained entranced.

“Sounds too good to be true,” Tiberius said at last, wishing he could stay in fancy forever. “Do you think, Zeke, there are any more good Marleyans, or is there just Ilona?”

“Just her, I guess,” Sally said sadly. “Or more would help, right?”

“No. There are good Marleyans at my school,” Zeke insisted.

Tiberius looked at Zeke. “What do you think will happen to them if we take over? We won’t do the same thing, right?”

“No, of course not,” said Zeke with a shiver. “We were always good.”

But Mom and Father hadn’t helped Ilona. Captain Fischer had. Who was good, again?

 

Ilona crouched on Kruger’s bed – their bed, now – with her arms wrapped around herself.

“Here.” Kruger held out a pair of pants. His voice trembled. “Your parents will bring clothing to you later, but you don’t need to stay in those clothes anymore.”

 _I don’t want to undress for anyone! Near anyone!_ Ilona’s fists curled. She hesitated. “Can you look away?”

“Of course.” Kruger turned his back and squeezed shut his eyes.

He was part of this. This military. And why was this more personal to him? Because he loved her? Other Eldians had been loved before.

“I’m done,” Ilona said. She was standing now, staring at the splintering floorboards. She shouldn’t have – if she hadn’t slept with Eren, maybe Gross wouldn’t have treated her like a whore. Her face flushed.

Kruger waited.

“I hate myself,” she mumbled. “I want another body, Eren.” Tears cracked through her rigid armor. “I was strong in there, but I can’t be here, and I – I don’t want to be here; I don’t want to do this; I feel like a child and I hate myself even more for it!”

Kruger folded his arms around her. “It’s okay, Ilona. Your feelings are okay. You’re right to feel.”

She screamed into his shoulder. Her fingernails bit into his back.

Damn it, what else could he say? What else could he do? “Hey, your childlike nature is one of your most golden characteristics.”

Ilona tried to laugh, but in her eyes he saw relief.

“Scream all you want. I’ll scream with you, for you. If – if it could have been me instead, I would do it.”

“No,” she sobbed. “No, you don’t need this too.”

Their eyes were bloodshot and dark and desperate and pooling into each other’s. The urge to vomit every darkness, to rid herself of every dingy secret, overtook her. “Did you guess? I thought my father would save me. I’m an idiot.”

“No. You’re a treasure.” Kruger brushed back the damp curls stuck to her face. His voice darkened. “He should have. He was _wrong_ not to.”

Ilona gasped. It wasn’t her fault. Criminal or not. Or was it? “Eren…I’m not – I’m not – God damn it, I’m not his! I never was, but he thinks I was, and I hate that. I hate him, and I don’t know if I’m talking about Gross or my father.”

“You can have both,” Kruger murmured. What else could he say? What could he do? “You need to eat. I’ll get food, then –”

“Don’t leave me,” pled Ilona. “All night. Please hold me.”

“I wouldn't dream of anything else.”

“I’m not a good cook,” he admitted a few minutes later, turning to his bed with two bowls of canned soup.

“I don’t have much experience, but I’ve always liked it,” she said. “I can…later. Thank you.”

She wasn’t hungry, not at all, but something steaming hot might help clean her insides. And she _did_ need sustenance. Ilona forced herself to swallow.

“It’s not you,” she said quickly, noticing Kruger’s concern.

“I know.” Kruger set down his bowl and rested his hand over hers.

“I should have been more careful. I should have lied or – or done something.”

Kruger stilled. “It isn’t your fault. It’s not. I swear to you.”

“I – I know. I would have told anyone else the same, because I’m such a hypocrite. But how – it keeps replaying in my mind.” Ilona gulped down the remaining soup as quickly as she could, scalding the back of her throat. The pain felt good, and that scared her.

She lay down next to him, forcing her eyes open. Every time she closed her eyes, Gross’s smirk surfaced. The smirk of a claim that wasn’t his to make. _I am just as human as he. I am not his._

As Kruger’s own eyes drifted shut, Ilona’s face merged between a half-devoured Eldian girl pulled from the river, men and women and more children begging for what fingers and toes they had left, a father burning in smoke that devoured his sight and smell.

He felt a monster.

 

“You just had to be the savior, didn’t you?” Gross rolled his eyes and quickened his pace as his partner strode through headquarters.

Kruger eyed him. “She was a misguided fool. She didn’t deserve your abuse.”

“Ha! I mean, it was a smart move, until you factor in the Mayor’s tumbling status.” Gross shrugged. “Better luck next time. Oh wait, you’re chained to an Eldian whore for life.”

“I think,” Kruger said carefully, turning his back to Gross lest he throttle the man, “you ought to watch your tongue about my wife.”

Gross rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, Eren. Unless you want to give us all a taste of her from time to time?”

Kruger spun around and glaring down at his partner. “As I said.”

Gross threw his hands in the air. “Point taken.”

“Private Weiss,” Kruger said, addressing the man across the room. “Will you deliver this note to a doctor in Liberio?”

“Yes, sir!” Kristoph Weiss hurried forward.

“What, a doctor in Marley isn’t good enough? Or maybe they won’t take her?” Gross laughed, rather enjoying the muscles twitching in Kruger’s jaw. For once, he would like to see his partner lose control.

“None,” said Kruger, “Of. Your. Business.”

He hated his calmness. He hated himself.

 

Ilona hated being alone. Mom might visit her today, but she hated the idea of seeing anyone. She even hated hating. The unevenness of her feelings – the indignation and self-love, followed by intense desire to shed her body and dissolve her soul – was killing her.

A knock on the door locked every muscle in her body. But then she heard a vaguely familiar, friendly voice call “Mrs. Kruger?” and her breathing slowed.

When she cracked open the door, Ilona recognized Kristoph and…the Jaegers, clad in Eldian armbands and kindness eyes.

“I heard you’ve been injured?” Grisha asked earnestly. “Your husband sent for me.”

Of course he had. Ilona stepped back, swallowing. She didn’t even want to hint at the past day, but she had to. “Kristoph, can you…wait outside?”

“Of course, Mrs. Kruger.” Kristoph smiled at her, smiled like she was normal, and she felt the instant urge to hug him.

“I’m so sorry.” Dina grasped her hands as soon as the door closed.

“I didn’t tell them anything,” Ilona said dully. “You should still be able to find the grain.”

“Did Alma tell you?” Dina’s eyes flickered to Grisha. The less this Marleyan knew, the better.

“Your involvement is not difficult to presume. But I would not betray any of you.”

“Thank you,” Grisha said, distracted by the oozing bandages covering her torn flesh. “Are those…”

“Dogs,” Ilona said, sinking onto the bed. “I would have made it without them.”

 _Faye_ … Screaming his name in vain, bit in the throat, alone. Grisha shivered. “Do you mind if I have a look?”

Ilona shook her head as he gently unwound the wrappings Kruger had placed on her last night. “I was lucky, I suppose.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Dina said, rubbing Ilona’s shoulder.

“Are these your only injuries?” Grisha asked, opening his briefcase and reaching for a bottle of antibiotic solution.

Ilona looked away. “Mostly, yes.”

“Mostly?” Dina’s heart sunk.

Ilona shrugged. “As I said. They didn’t have long for torture.”

“This will hurt a bit. Squeeze Dina’s hand.” Grisha pressed a cloth soaked in antibiotics against her arm.

“How do you treat rape?” Tears stung her eyes as she choked on her words.

Grisha stopped. Dina lowered her gaze but increased her grip on Ilona’s shoulder. She’d been right to insist on accompanying Grisha.

Ilona squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t want to see their pity. _It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault._

His voice was soft, almost like an echo of her own mind. “I do my best to assure them it’s not their fault. I fix any injuries so that they will be scarred in memory only. And if they still want, I…can provide a cordial to stop pregnancy.”

He rummaged through his briefcase before pressing a small vial into her hands. “Do you need this?”

Ilona opened her eyes to see his, kind and sorrowful. He was a good doctor, she thought.

“It’s not pleasant medicine, but it’s effective. And Miss – Mrs. Kruger, it’s _not_ your fault.”

Did they ever believe him?

Ilona studied the glass vial. “Truthfully, I won’t need this…But thank you, Dr. Jaeger.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes.” Ilona shook her head. “And I won’t tell anyone that you have such…concoctions.”

“We appreciate it,” said Dina. This was usually the time she provided comfort to Grisha’s patients. “Dear, I hope you know you’re the bravest Marleyan we know. I’d consider you an honorary Eldian if I could.”

Ilona chuckled. Little did they know how close they were. “I’m flattered.”

“Not many Eldians would endure the lies and suffering you have. You didn’t have to risk anything, and you didn’t deserve it,” Dina said as Grisha rubbed salve onto the bites. “I consider you a friend, if I may.”

“I already considered you friends,” Ilona admitted. “Strange though that may sound.”

“I rather like that sound,” said Grisha. The notion of a Marleyan … friend … was more pleasant than he’d expected.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

 

His palms were sweating and his hands shaking as he fumbled to fit his key in the doorknob. _Open – dammit –_ so close to home, where he could sit down – he couldn’t startle Ilona.

These short moments of breathlessness were increasing in length and frequency. _Do I have less time than I thought?_

Finally Kruger staggered into his home and caught the table. The stress of the last week was far too much.

“Eren!” Ilona cried out.

He met her horrified gaze, but could only manage a whisper. “I’m – I’m fine.”

Ilona clenched her teeth and marched forward, shutting the door he’d forgotten to close.

_Dammit._

“Don’t lie to me, Eren.” And now she was guiding him towards the bed.

“No, I’m supposed to take care of you,” he mumbled.

“Shut up and lie down, Mr. Titan,” she said with as much humor as she could muster.

He closed his stinging eyes and listened to the soft sounds of her shuffling around their home. If only – if only they had years to live and heal together here.

He felt a spoon on his lips. Broth steamed with flavor on his tongue.

“What is this?”

“Dinner. You didn’t expect me to live on your cooking forever, did you?” Ilona smiled slightly. “I, uh, went and bought food today.””

Kruger’s face was serious. “How was that?”

“Few people recognize me without fineries.” Ilona twisted a curl around her finger. “So it was okay. I just – I – why should I be ashamed or afraid? Because society says I’m defiled? Because the military hurt me? _They_ should be ashamed, not me. If they thought they broke me, they did, but I’ll rebuild stronger.”

“You’re right,” Kruger said, his strength returning at her fiery temper. Did she actually believe this? Since last week, it was all he ever wanted.

“Do you think so?” Ilona’s smile wavered. “Because if you don’t, I want to know. And if you do, I need you to believe it and tell me so when I – I can’t for myself.”

“Always.” Kruger set down his bowl and drew her close to him. _While I’m here_. His voice broke. “I would give anything to stay longer with you.”

“I know.” For the first time in a week, she felt the urge to feel his skin against hers, every inch of her loving him and every in of him loving her.

_His trousers pressed against her face, and she couldn’t breathe –_

Ilona shuddered away the memory.

“Ilona?”

“Memories,” she admitted, sucking in a deep breath. “I just – damn, if only every memory is as strong as those.”

Kruger snorted. “Try having dozens of memories in your brain.”

“I’d rather not.” Ilona shoved him playfully and shrieked when he responded by tickling her neck.

These days, laughter felt like power. It wouldn’t cure either of them, but it certainly dulled the pain.

 

“I – um – I wanted to ask you – have you – ”

“We haven’t found the man,” said Fischer, ruffling Zeke’s hair.

“Okay.” Zeke feigned relief. Hopefully his days of lying to Fischer would finish soon.

“Have you heard anything else, Zeke?” Fischer cocked his head and leant back in his chair. “The information of someone like you has is invaluable.”

“In – valuable?” Anxiety stabbed him.

“It means beyond valuable,” Fischer said.

“Oh!” Zeke nodded.

He loved the praise. He wished he could properly enjoy it.

“So nothing else?” Fischer had to wonder if he was pushing too far.

“No,” he said, then paused. “Well, actually, I – I don’t know if it means anything – but I heard my father speculating that people are only stealing from the storehouse because they’re starving.”

“I see.” Fischer nodded.

“I think Father heard it from his patients,” Zeke added quickly. “I’m sorry; I know it’s not much information…”

“Anything helps,” Fischer said brightly. He sighed. “Though I do have to wonder why your father wouldn’t tell us directly.”

“I – I mean, he wanted to,” stammered Zeke. Fischer _could not_ talk to his parents. “I heard Mom telling him he had no evidence and you know, what if we get in trouble, too?”

“I understand.” Fischer gave him a small smile, and Zeke shivered.

Did he? Did he really understand?

“Are you okay, Zeke?” Fischer asked kindly.

“Yes.” Zeke forced cheer into his voice. “Just, I should be home soon. My parents might worry.”

“I’ll walk you home. Would it help if I explained you’re helping me after school? I could be vague if you want.”

Zeke’s eyes widened. He never knew an adult to keep a secret for him. “No, that’s really okay. Thank you.”

“Always.”

At home, Mom greeted him with a shadowed smile. “Where have you been?”

“My teacher teaches me extra. He says I’m really good,” said Zeke.

“Is that so?” Mom beamed. “That’s marvelous, sweetheart.”

“What is he teaching you?” Father entered the room, and Dina noted Zeke’s smile fade.

“Uh – uh – advanced fighter techniques.”

“Really? Well, let me know if you want to practice sometime,” said Father. “See, you are special.”

Now Zeke wanted to cry. He wanted to be special for something _real_. What if he confessed to his parents? What if he said he’d led the officers astray? If he begged them that he’d only done it for Ilona?

He could just see Father shaking his head. _Why would you put yourself in danger for a Marleyan?_ _You’re risking suspicion! You’re not good enough to fight them until you’re older!_

“Zeke, what’s the matter?” Dina waved a hand in front of his scared face.

“Oh – oh. Nothing, I was only daydreaming.” Zeke wiped his eyes, though he hadn’t cried. It just seemed the right thing to do.

“It’s a lonely life you lead, Zeke,” said Father. “It means a lot to us. Ymir would be proud of you.”

 _Unless you mean my monkey, I don’t care_ , Zeke thought. And then he felt even more afraid.

“History will remember you,” agreed Dina. “Your sacrifices will not be in vain.”

 _History will be very disappointed in you_ , his brain told him.

He was so lonely.

 

Her hair was tucked in a knot at the nape of her neck. Her dress was pink but plain. Ilona fit in here, outside, milling among the crowded streets.

She would do this quietly, but she would do it nonetheless. Kruger might worry, but Ilona couldn’t let that stop her. Adrenaline sped through her veins as she approached the gate, and she turned her eyes down to avoid the alley.

With some relief, however, she found the guard unrecognizable, and easily passed into Liberio.

 _Knock, knock_.

Alma cracked open the door and gasped at the young woman before her. “Ilona!”

“Hello, Alma.” Ilona smiled nervously. “How are you doing?”

“I am fine. How – how are you?” Alma found herself frozen. She wanted to tell Ilona she wished she’d been there, that she was sorry, but she couldn’t. Her lips wouldn’t move.

Why was she here? She could endanger her kids! Alma’s face cooled.

“I am fine,” Ilona replied, unwilling to be honest. “Are Tiberius and Sally here?”

“Yes,” Sally called, rushing out of her bedroom.

Tiberius poked his head beyond the door. His eyes widened. She was okay! She stood in their threshold as if nothing had happened. “Ilona!”

Ilona beamed as she embraced Sally and Tiberius. “I’ve missed you two. Staying out of trouble?”

“I haven’t gotten in trouble in months,” Tiberius admitted, pushing his hands in his pockets. _Since we met_ went unspoken, but he liked to think she heard it regardless.

“Good.” Ilona kissed the top of his head.

“ _I_ got yelled at by my teacher.” Sally tossed her hair proudly. “Mira took Nina’s doll and I made her give it back. But Mira’s the teacher’s pet so Miss Rhine got mad at me.”

“You sound altogether unrepentant,” Ilona said dryly.

“I am!”

“I’m glad,” said Ilona.

Alma hung her head. She’d scolded Sally for this story, but, oh, for causing trouble that was happening anyhow? For protecting Nina Smith, who was too shy to protect herself? She was an unfit mother. They would be better off with a disgrace like Ilona.

“I’ve some treats for you.” Ilona fished in her bag and pulled out peppermint sticks and lemon drops.

“Sugar!” shrieked Sally.

“Shh,” Tiberius hissed. “Thank you, Ilona.”

“You don’t have to, you know,” said Alma, brushing back a strand of hair.

“I know. And I know candy doesn’t do a mite of lasting good, but maybe, improving even a little moment is worthwhile,” said Ilona, watching Tiberius tentatively lick his peppermint stick.

Alma laughed, hoping Ilona would forget her behavior. “Now they won’t eat dinner.”

“We will,” Sally protested.

Tiberius shook his head and winked at Ilona, who couldn’t resist a laugh.

“Ilona!” Zeke now stood in the doorway, his mouth open.

“Well, now, isn’t this apartment busy,” said Alma.

“I was about to suggest we go see you,” said Ilona, noticing the jealousy spark in his eyes.

Zeke’s face brightened. “Are those lemon drops?”

“You won’t like them. They’re sour,” said an already sticky Sally.

“I still wanna try,” he mumbled as Ilona handed him the smooth yellow candy.

 

“Thought you might want to know,” Miller said quietly, shoving the paper into the light.

“This? This looks more like an ape than a man,” Kruger scoffed, inhaling his cigarette.

“Still, if it’s related to your wife, or her, uh, former lover…I thought you might want to know.” Miller now regretted that decision.

“So I can punish the man, is that what you mean?” Kruger rolled his eyes. “You’ll need this in life sometime, Private: it’s a fact that women are as human as men.”

“No, sir, I meant to prepare you is all,” said Miller, strain in his tone.

“He doesn’t have Eldian features.” Kruger squinted at the drawing, his pulse lowering.

“Does that surprise you?” Miller asked in disgust. “Gross probably tortured her into that confession.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I mean no disrespect to the status of Sergeant Major, sir,” he hurried to say. “But your partner’s persona may very well be a disrespect itself.”

Kruger eyed him solemnly. “I saw no one else willing to stop him.”

“No, well, I mean, it’s usually Eldians, and it’s easy to believe a officer over a woman with something to hide, but since I know her I couldn’t do that this time.” Miller cleared his throat.

 _Don’t make me hate you._ Kruger crumpled the paper. “I see. I’ll keep an eye out.”

“How is she?” Miller blurted.

“Recovering,” Kruger said evenly.

“O – okay then. I’ll be on my way. Just, you know, if you could prepare her for his possible capture.” Miller shrugged before scurrying away.

Kruger’s mask collapsed the moment he left. He leant against a tree and fought to hold back his rage. Not only could he not catch his breath, but everyone insulted her. Everyone contributed to hurting her with every fucking insult to Eldians.

Ymir’s curse? Or the pain of a rage that couldn’t be quenched?

Kruger closed his eyes. He had to be better than their enemy. Emotions were for later. Emotions were for when he was dead.

“Private Miller,” he called, tossing out his cigarette and striding through the doors.

“Yes, sir?” Miller straightened.

“I know you said to keep it under wraps, but what _can_ you tell me about how you received this picture?”

Miller glanced around. No one else was around. “I can’t tell you the name of the man. But…I can say it’s an Eldian. Which, I mean, who can trust them…right?” Kruger must believe he didn’t house any Eldian sympathies for the enemy. Because he didn’t. “I believe it’s one of our titan trainees.”

“A child?” Kruger’s eyes narrowed.

“Must be,” Miller said with another shrug.

Well, that deepened the mystery. Either the Restorationalist had a puny ally, or they had a traitor who was truly mistaken.

“Thank you, sir.” Kruger nodded briskly, as much a compliment as any officer who interacted with him could hope to receive.

Their plant was not so stupid, he’d been told. But what if little Jaeger thought he was being helpful? Kruger took a deep breath. He needed to get a message to the Restorationalists fast. With either option, Zeke, that child Ilona loved, was in danger.

 

“Your face when you tasted the lemon drop.” Tiberius giggled as he walked home with Zeke. Ilona was long gone, and the gates to Liberio closed again.

“It was sour,” Zeke admitted. “Don’t tell Sally I didn’t like it though!”

“Never.” Tiberius placed his fist over his heart. Mom was forcing Sally to bathe rather than let her be seen in public as a “sticky spectacle.” Tiberius tells Zeke he can always talk to him

“Thank you.” Zeke smiled. “I was glad to see her.”

Ilona’s generous hands, her kind eyes, her ability to answer his insecurities before they began – seeing her convinced him he’d been right. All his lies, entering this tangled maze, was worthwhile.

“Me too.” Tiberius swallowed. “She seemed more nervous to me.”

“I don’t think so,” said Zeke. No, of course she was the same. But since he didn’t want to alienate Tiberius, he added, “Or maybe I’m just too dumb to notice.”

Tiberius frowned. “Zeke, you’re talking like me when Father beat us. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“My father doesn’t beat me,” Zeke snapped.

“I know. All I meant was you seem upset and like you don’t like yourself, and I _want_ you to like yourself, because I like you.” Tiberius grabbed Zeke’s hands.

“Oh. Well, I’m fine.” Zeke’s eyes stung. “But thank you. I – I really appreciate that.”

Tiberius wrapped his arms around Zeke. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I know,” said Zeke, though he remained unsure. Still, Tiberius’ words were everything he’d wanted, even if he was too weak to capitalize on them. He returned the hug with every emotion he’d ever had.

 

“You had me worried,” said Kruger, breathing a sigh of relief.

“I’m sorry. I did leave a note,” said Ilona, blushing.

“Oh, I know.” Kruger smiled sadly. “How was it?”

“Good.” Ilona blinked back tears. “Seeing them again…it’s worth it.” Her fists clenched. “Not that – that I ever thought otherwise – but – I hate how I feel sometimes.”

“I understand,” Kruger said, putting his hand on her shoulder.

She smiled up at him. “I might have to change how I do things, but I’m not giving up.”

“I never expected you would. That’s something I love about you.” Kruger used his calloused thumb to wipe the tears away from her eyes.

She caught his hand and pressed it against her cheek. “I love you, Eren.”

“And I love you.” Kruger hesitated. “May I kiss you?”

Ilona chuckled. “Has anyone ever told you how sweet you are, underneath that tough officer persona?”

No one had ever told him so, except his mother when he was a toddler. Maybe. He wasn’t sure.

Then she nodded, and he pressed his lips against hers. She opened her mouth, and Kruger’s heart raced.

He broke away. “Tell me what you’re comfortable with?”

“I will,” she promised.

“Thank you.” He returned her kisses and laid her down on their bed.

After a few minutes, Ilona stopped as cold crept along her spin. Panic titillated her nerves. “I – I’m starting to remember.”

“Okay.” Kruger rubbed her shoulders as he peered down with concern. “Can I do anything?”

Ilona scowled at her memories. “Keep going. But – slowly.”

“All right.” Kruger kissed the tip of her nose, and Ilona giggled at the welcome sensation. He chuckled in response, and in each other’s eyes, they both felt safe.

 

“You seem upset today, Zeke.” Fischer peered down at his pupil.

Zeke rubbed the smudges off his nose. He hadn’t lost a fight in a long time. “I just – I feel like I’m irresponsible.”

 _How can you be so irresponsible? Candy will ruin your health, Zeke_ , fumed Father.

“Irresponsible?” Fischer frowned.

Zeke’s heart leapt. Maybe Fischer didn’t think so! “I mean, with this program, I have to be the best. To help Marley.”

Fischer leant forward. “Is that what you want?”

Zeke stared at the floor. “I don’t know.” See, irresponsible.

“Is it what your parents want?”

“Yes.” Zeke shivered, filled with envy for Tiberius’ easy life. “I suppose I want to be the best, too. To please them.”

“You can’t live to please others,” Fischer said. “You have to live for yourself, too. You know you’re a sinner. Live to cleanse that for your sake.”

“I do,” admitted Zeke, sniffling. He wanted to be free of this burden. “I want to, and I know I can. My parents say I’m special.”

Didn’t all parents, but these were different. Fischer said nothing, as he was trained. People revealed more to silence than questions.

“Mom’s descended from the King of Eldia, you know? So they think I’m special, and I don’t know how to deal with that. Do I try to right our wrongs and kill my Eldian family? Or do I try to help Eldia? They’re my family, even if they’re evil. I feel that urge, too. I’m such a miserable warrior.” Zeke began to cry.

“It’s a human urge, Zeke. Just because you feel sympathy, doesn’t mean you have to act on it. I know you know the truth.”

“I just want everything with the restorationalists versus the military to stop. They got Ilona hurt. They endanger my friends.”

“The Berg children?”

“Yes. The restorationalists – they don’t care if their lives are empty, as long as others’ aren’t, but I don’t want my life to be empty. I want to make things right _now_ ,” Zeke burst out, electric feeling pulsating through him.

Fischer tried to mask his surprise. He tilted Zeke’s chin up. “You can.”

“How?” Zeke’s eyes swam.

“You know how. The answer is in you. Regardless of your feelings.” Fischer hardly dared to breathe. He was so close to his mission.

Zeke began to tremble. “I know the leaders of the Eldian restoration.”

“I know you do,” said Fischer tenderly.

“What?”

“I’m very proud of you. You’re brave.”

Captain Fischer believed in him. Captain Fischer hadn’t condemned him. Captain Fischer believed in his life dream.

“They’re my parents.” Zeke waited.

Fischer nodded at last. “First of all, I believe you. Do you want to be free to help Marley?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Stay here while I make some arrangements?” Fischer held out his hand.

In his hand was another peppermint stick.

 


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

 

“Zeke, where were you? We were worried,” said Dina, hurrying over to her son.

            She stopped short at the sight of six Marleyan officers standing behind him, their hands resting on their guns.

            “Oh my. Is everything all right?” Dina straightened up, fighting for calm.

            Zeke’s eyes were enormous. They shone with fear and determination. Grisha might have seen a future king, but Dina just saw a child needing comfort from a nightmare.

            “What’s this about?” Grisha set down the plate he had been helping Dina wash and walked towards the doorway.

            Colonel Lange noted the father’s palpable anxiety. Guilt indeed.

            “Well, Zeke?” he prodded. Fischer hadn’t had the balls to make the arrest himself, so here he was stuck with the job.

            “It’s them.” Zeke pointed a shaking finger at his parents. “They work for the Eldian Restoration Force.”

            Grisha’s face froze. For a moment, he didn’t recognize Zeke.

            The soldiers lifted their pistols and aimed at the Jaegers.

            “Don’t use those with my son here,” protested Dina, stumbling backward to clutch Grisha’s arm. “He – Zeke, what are you talking about?”

“He’s confused,” said Grisha, a tearless sob rising in his throat. Zeke? His own child? Zeke, the one who’d laughed while pinning him to the floor during extra training?

“Then you won’t mind if we check your desk,” Lange said pointedly.

“Not at all,” said Grisha, knowing they really were living their worst nightmare now. He might as well resist to the last.

“I wouldn’t try anything, seeing as your son’s here. Try a moment of good parenting,” teased a soldier.

Dina’s face colored with rage, but Grisha pinched her to keep her silent. The soldiers were right. They had to obey. Just like – just like his parents with _Faye_ –

“Well, what’s this?” Lange waved the ancient papers of Ymir around.

“Proof that we’re not the monsters you say we are,” Grisha said, his voice shaking. _Zeke – you’re not a monster._

“On the contrary, this proves everything we’ve been saying about you Eldians.” Lange slammed the papers down.

His gaze rested briefly on the kid’s terrified, hopeful face. With a sigh, he said, “Do you have someone else who can care for your brat?”

 _Brat_? Zeke’s lower lip trembled.

Dina swallowed. Grisha wouldn’t say it, but she would. “His grandparents.”

“Where do they live?”

“Two buildings down,” said Dina, watching Zeke’s misery. He needn’t be called _brat_. He was a good boy. Her boy.

Grisha swallowed behind her as Lange dispatched two soldiers to his parents’. His father – he’d feel a failure – and Mom – she’d relive Faye – all because of him –

 _Not Zeke_? whispered a voice inside.

 _He’s a child_ , Grisha thought. _A child. Yes, and what had he done to his childhood?_

_It was necessary in this cruel world._

_Was it?_

His kid was scared and tearful and unable to look him in the eye. No, it wasn’t worth it.

“Zeke –”

“You’ll both remain silent. No more corruption on your child, whose soul is braver than either of you combined,” said Lange. His vitriol felt hollow; they were about to see a family destroyed. He’d joined the military to save Marleyan families, not obliterate Eldian ones.

 _Brave…but a brat._ Zeke clung to ‘brave,’ but ‘brat’ echoed louder.

The door opened again, and Grisha turned his head away.

“Grisha, what’s all this?” whispered his mother’s voice.

“Don’t speak to them,” said Lange.

His mother covered her mouth to suppress a sob. Dina’s own eyes met hers, pleading. _I’m sorry, Mrs. Jeager_.

There was no hate in her mother-in-law’s eyes. Dina wished she’d made more efforts to spend time with this compassionate woman.

Grisha’s father couldn’t take his eyes off his son, but Grisha’s head was bowed.

“Can’t even face your parents?” mocked a soldier. “What a coward.” The butt of his pistol swung at Grisha, but Lange snatched his hand before his blow landed.

“There’s a child here,” he said coldly. To his surprise, Dina mouthed a _thank you_ towards him. He found himself unsure how to respond to this Eldian woman, so he did nothing.

Finally Grisha lifted his eyes, brimming with tears and fear, towards his father.

 _I taught you wrong._ His father hoped, in what little time they had left, that Grisha would see his regrets and feel his love.

“Colonel, what will happen to them?” he asked, still staring at Grisha’s face. He remembered how red his son’s face had been when Faye died, red with fury and sorrow and guilt. But they’d never blamed him. Had he blamed himself?

Was that it? Was that when Grisha had fallen? _I’m so sorry_.

They were going to lose another child. The giggling baby he’d bounced on his knee would be turned into a flesh-eating monster. _Please have mercy_. _God, Marley, Ymir,_ anyone.

“They’ll be interrogated until we have all the members of the Restoration. Your grandson’s provided us with enough information to start, but we’ll have to see how far this goes.” Lange softened his voice, unwilling to mention their certain sentence before their son. “There’s no need to interrogate your grandson.”

“Thank you,” whispered Mr. Jaeger even as he fought the urge to retch.

“What’s going on?” Their neighbor Wagner burst through the door. “I see all this ruckus and – oh!”

“You’ve been living next door to traitors,” said Lange.

Wagner nodded, barely breathing. When would they grab his arms, too?  
            When no one made a sound, Wagner straightened out his round glasses. If they had names, they must not recognize his face yet.

He could leave. He could run.

Or – and he saw the tearful boy before him – he could risk it all to give a child one last pastry, one last hug. He knelt to wrap his arms around Zeke.

“Take them away. We’ll comb through everything later.” Lange waved his arm.

Now handcuffs were placed on their wrists, and Dina felt true panic blaze into her chest. If they’d raped Ilona, what more would they do to an Eldian?

“It was mostly me, not her,” Grisha pled. “I – I made her –”

“Not according to your son, bastard,” snapped Lange.

“Zeke!” As they shoved the two of them out like cattle, Grisha craned his neck to see his son one last time. He hadn’t known the penalty, had he? Had he? “Wait – please – I love you!”

“Not as much as you loved using him,” scoffed the soldier dragging him along, and Grisha finally dissolved in tears.

 

Ilona jumped. Someone pounded on their door, now, in the middle of night. She and Kruger exchanged glances as he stumbled towards the door.

“Eren, we’re needed immediately in Liberio.” Lenin’s voice quivered with excitement.

“It’s _night_. Just what is going on?”

“Apparently there’s an entire Eldian Restoration movement. One of their kids turned in their parents; can you believe the scum? General Truitt says we need all the higher ups to arrest the vermin before they flee and search their homes. If before morning, we might have a chance at getting them all!” Lenin panted for breath.

 _Shit_.

Behind Eren was his wife, a shawl around her shoulders and eyes that hadn’t forgotten him. She looked at him as if _he_ was an Eldian, and Lenin had the queasy feeling he deserved it. And she wouldn’t stop _looking_ at him.

“Give me a moment,” said Kruger, shutting the door in Lenin’s face.

Kruger slowly turned to Ilona. His face was ash and he couldn’t move.

“Here.” Ilona shoved his uniform at him. If she froze, she’d never move again. “Do what you can.”

She couldn’t say any more. Neither of them could.

Zeke – the Jaegers – Ilona remembered Dina’s embrace and Grisha washing her wounds, and Zeke laughing only yesterday. If she could warn them – if Zeke wasn’t the traitor –

Kruger’s hand found hers. He squeezed her hand, afraid to speak aloud and full of faith she’d understand. _I’ll do what I can_.

 

Ilona continued to pace along the walls of their home well into morning, willing her need for tears into anger. Zeke, Tiberius, Sally … they were just kids. Kids.

 _Tap-t-tap-tap_. Ilona recognized the knock before she even opened the door.

“Mom.”

“Ilona.” Raina’s eyes flitted about nervously. “May I come in?”

Ilona stepped back to allow her mother inside. She ought to ask if her mother wanted something to drink, or a place to sit, but in truth Ilona was too angry. The Eldians’ oppression, the titan program, and her own imprisonment weren’t Raina’s fault, but Ilona needed someone to blame.

Still, Ilona wasn’t silly enough to yell at Mom yet. “Is something the matter?”

“Are you happy here?” Reina surveyed the clean but cramped room.

“Yes,” said Ilona.

Even dressed as plainly as she was, her daughter looked beautiful. Reina had wanted so much more for her.

Ilona looked towards the fireplace. “I wouldn’t change a thing I’ve done, you know.”

“No,” Raina said with a small smile. “I don’t imagine you would. You were always stubborn, like me when I was your age.”

“If we’re all stubborn when we’re young, the world should change more.”

“Well, sometimes there are good reasons to keep it the same,” said Reina.

“To let children die and women be raped?”

“That’s not what I meant, Ilona.”

“Oh, but it’s the consequence, don’t you see? You can’t amputate intent from consequence just to keep your conscience intact!” Ilona’s eyes flashed.

“Well, what could I do?” cried Raina. “I can’t even climb out of bed for days on end, unless you’ve forgotten my misery for your Eldians.”

“Do something,” Ilona seethed. “Something.”

“Well, something is easier to say than concrete ideas,” said Raina, pressing her hands over her mouth. “I didn’t come here to fight.”

“Then why did you come?” Ilona’s voice rose. “You hate me, don’t you?”

“No! I love you.” Now sobbing, Raina grabbed her daughter’s shoulders and shook her. “I wouldn’t even care if you had _married_ your Eldian lover, Ilona. If you were still carrying on an affair behind Eren’s back.”

Ilona’s mouth fell open. “ _What_?! You – don’t you know I would never betray someone like that?”

“Yes, yes, yes; I just meant that even if you did – I would still be on your side.” Raina released Ilona and stepped back. “Your father would, too. He’s very sorry, but it will never be enough, I know.”

Ilona would like it to be enough. But it hurt too much. She said nothing.

“Someone dropped off a letter for you,” said Raina, holding out a folded piece of paper. “That’s why I came here.”

Ilona snatched the letter. Adrenaline raced through her body.

“But that’s not all she dropped off,” Raina added. Maybe, just maybe, this would help her daughter think better of her parents.

 

Drawers had been thrown to the floor, walls opened, and pillows slashed.

“What did we find?” Kruger asked Gross, as coldly as possible.

“Lots of alternate history. Can you imagine being so pathetic that you need to alter the facts?” Gross snickered. Kruger clearly hated him now, and he enjoyed provoking him.

“More desperate than pathetic,” said Kruger, craving a cigarette or Ilona’s touch. “But perhaps both.”

Gross shrugged. “Is there a difference?”

Maybe not to him. Maybe Gross had never felt desperation. Maybe he’d never suffered, never so much as cried for milk as a baby. Kruger wished he could label his partner inhuman and forget about him, but this cockroach was human, too, and it ate at him.  

“They’re being interrogated now, along with all their cronies. We’ll probably be reviewing evidence all day. We’ve caught at least twenty.”

“Have you a list of names?”

“Looking for your wife’s lover?” jeered Gross, tossing a clipboard at Kruger.

His fingers didn’t move fast enough, not like they used to.

“Hey,” Gross frowned as his partner sank to pick up the clipboard. He’d never known Kruger to miss a catch. “Are you ill?”

“Can’t be ill when there’s traitors amidst,” said Kruger, straightening. _Grise Kryzenski_. _Eben Werner_. _Alma Berg_.

“We’ve caught all of them?”

“All but one. Alma Berg, one of the few bitches in this crew, slipped away this morning. We don’t even know where her kids are. Found the apartment abandoned.” Gross smiled. “My dogs will be out later. With the kids, this could be _very_ interesting.”

 _Holy fuck._ Forget the dissolution of his plans in one day. Fuck plans. Kruger was living his worst nightmare, in which all the people he and his wife loved were dismembered.

“I see,” Kruger said, needing to move away, somewhere, anywhere but besides this man. And fuck him for daring to be a man.

He left the ransacked apartment and found Colonel Lange below, in the doctor’s shop.

“We’re testing the chemicals one by one, sir,” said a pink-cheeked newbie.

“Good. Keep at it.” Lange turned to Kruger. “It’s only a matter of time until we find whatever caused the smoke in the arena. I shouldn’t be surprised if there’s much worse.”

“Anything yet?” Kruger folded his arms. At least that was one answer they’d never find.

“We found a hidden cabinet, but the only container was at a concentration fit to end a pregnancy, but nothing else. Baby-killers, though I wonder if he was stockpiling for Marleyan women whenever their restoration force took over.” Lange shrugged. “You can never tell with these monsters.”

Kruger nodded, his expression neutral. He knew what Grisha had offered Ilona. Now even Dr. Jaeger’s kindness would count against him. “Did his kid really turn him in?”

“Yup,” Lange said smugly.

“Where is the kid now?” Kruger prayed they’d have mercy on a turncoat kid.

“He’s with his grandparents. Nothing was found in their apartment, and no one’s implicated them. Yet. We’ll see. The interrogations haven’t been going for long.”

“Let’s hope the Jaegers were an aberration, then. Sir, I came to see you about Sergeant Major Gross.”

“Yes?”

“You’re aware of his sadistic tendencies.”

“What’s this about?” Lange’s voice hardened.

“I fear that if you allow him to join the search for Mrs. Berg and her children, we could lose valuable witnesses and another Eldian with potential information.”

Lange scowled. “He’s been warned.”

“He expressed his own desires to me just now. I insist he be replaced with someone else. Lenin, perhaps.”

Lange sighed. “Well, I see. Okay. I trust your judgment, Sergeant Major.” He smiled. “It’s a pity you don’t have higher credentials. You should have been promoted, even before me.” He shrugged. “Your marriage shows more integrity in one afternoon than I have ever shown.”

Kruger was taken aback. “Sir?”

Lenin snorted. “I don't know what I’m saying. I’ve not slept and I’m probably just trying to ease my conscience over Gross. Who knows?”

“I see. Thank you, sir.” Cringing, Kruger slipped away. He hated praise, especially when he didn’t deserve it.

His boot crunched down on glass.

On the floor was a photograph with a smiling family – a beautiful mother, a proud father, and an sullen child adorable enough that even Kruger, who didn’t much like children, could appreciate him.

A family decimated yesterday.

Kruger crouched down and slipped the photograph from its frame. Solemnly, he placed it in his coat pocket.

Loved ones. Family. Like Ilona to him.

Kruger brushed aside his accusations of sentimentality. Besides, a plot was forming in his mind, and this picture would play a crucial role.

His throat tingled.

 

Ilona opened the door for him, her face even more agitated than when he’d left. “What’s the news?”

Kruger locked the door behind them and slumped against the wall. His expression was grave. “They’re in custody. Nearly the entire company was named by Zeke, your Zeke, and the remaining names were provided by torture. I don’t blame those who talked, either.”

“Dina?” Ilona’s voice rose.

Kruger rested his head on his hands. “She’s there, too.”

The room fell silent.

“Don’t let them do it to her.” When Ilona finally spoke, her voice trembled. They probably already had. She was too late. “Tiberius told me she’s related to King Fritz. If they find that out, they’ll put her in the breeding program. Kruger, please. That can’t…”

She still couldn’t meet his eyes when those memories washed over her. Kruger swallowed hard and reached for her hand. She had sealed his decision, and he hated himself for it. “It won’t. I promise.”

He wrapped her in an embrace. “Alma’s not there.”

“But they have her name,” Ilona said.

“Yes.” Kruger hesitated. “The kids are missing, too.”

“Not for long,” Ilona said evasively.

Kruger tilted her chin up to look into her eyes.

“I have a plan,” she said with a tight smile.

“Then you shouldn’t tell me,” he said, tightening his hold on her.

“Why?”

“I trust you,” he said with a smile.

“That’s very kind of you, but you already did before this.” Ilona poked him in his chest. “What are _you_ plotting, Eren? Oughtn’t we co-conspire?”

“We need the Coordinate, Ilona, and with no revolution we don’t have a chance of getting it.”

“So you’ll head off to Eldia to retrieve it before you die?” Ilona eyed him. “You know I’d come, titans be damned.”

“Oh, I’d expect no less.” Kruger kissed her with a desperation he’d never shown.

Ilona turned her head away, trying not to cry. “What are you actually planning?”

“I don’t know if I’d make it to the walls, much less convince a brainwashed king. Someone else needs to. Much they won’t make it through the land of titans unless they’re a shifter.”

“”So you’ll sacrifice yourself for one of them.” Ilona had no protest, no better plan to suggest. “I –”

“The military knows about Night Owl. They’ll find me if I stay. It won’t take long for them to start requesting blood tests, and there are no doctors to fake my results this time. And you too would pay the consequences.”

“You can’t leave any witnesses, then.”

Kruger smiled thinly. “A few more murders won’t add much to my stay in hell.”

Ilona cried out. “You don’t deserve hell!”

“Do I deserve heaven? If there even is one?” These questions had always swirled in his mind, but now he faced them, and he _needed_ there to be an afterlife, another life with Ilona. “But if there is, would my father even recognize me? Would he hate me?”

“Eren. You’re afraid.”

No sense in denying it. “More so than when you found out who I was.”

Ilona couldn’t resist a laugh. “Was that truly the most afraid you’d been until now?”

“I didn’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t.” Ilona squeezed his hand. “I’ll always be there for you. And your father is waiting for you, wherever heaven is.”

Kruger’s sorrow cracked open, and tears sprang to his eyes. “Thank you.”

“I have another idea,” Ilona promised, her heart stabilizing. “I will cover for you. We’ll throw the military into enough chaos missing officers and prisoners won’t concern them much.”

“We?” Kruger thought for a moment. “Oh. I see.”

“It’s about time an exposé came out, isn’t it?” Ilona wondered how to weave this along with the rest of her plan, but there had to be a way. There had to be.

“He’ll be one of the officers along with me. That’s already set,” said Kruger. She deserved to know.

“When?”

“Tomorrow.”

“I thought so. Our plans will work well together, then.” Ilona shook her head. “There’s a burning part of me that wants him eaten alive by dogs until he dies, and worse.”

She might as well lay bare the darkness, tonight on their last chance. “Do you know, a part of me even wants…what he did to me done to him. I want him to understand exactly how it feels. But I know – somewhere – I don’t actually want that. I don’t believe in violence as an answer, merely as a desperate means. I just don’t want him to hurt anyone else.”

“Killing him won’t be justice,” Kruger agreed. “And lest you think you’re the only one with such broken imaginings, I, too, sometimes want misery for him. And my colleagues. And myself.”

“You aren’t nearly as depraved as he.”

“No, but not killing _untried_ children and never raping a woman is a very low bar,” Kruger said, closing his eyes. “I knew this. I accepted this. All for this moment, the moment I let my revolutionists save the world. I let them think Marleyans were the enemy to bind them together, and I thought so too, but they aren’t, all for something that’s in shambles and left to a broken man. Grisha…Grisha needs to learn they aren’t, too. In the hours I have left, I have to shown him that.”

“You will.” Ilona was glad one of Zeke’s parents would remain alive. She hoped, too, as insane and unlikely as it was, that they would reunite someday. “Zeke…he never named me, did he?”

“No, and only Alma and the Jaegers could identify you. They’ve talked about Night Owl, but not you.” Kruger smiled tenderly at her. “You have so many allies, maybe you’ve shown them already.”

“Maybe it ought to be more on us Marleyans to prove ourselves the allies,” Ilona declared. “For your conscience: It's dangerous, but I’ll find a way to reach out to Zeke. I can’t give up on him. Make sure Grisha knows that.”

“I’d expect no less.” Kruger kissed her cheek.

“My dear Eren,” said Ilona. “If we’re going to separate – for a little while – that won’t suffice.”

“Oh, really?” whispered Kruger, a smirk on her face. Tonight, he needed a distraction from mortality, and he needed Ilona, and she needed him.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Chapter Seventeen**

**(Aka our penultimate chapter ahhhhhhhhh)**

 

_The Jaegers’ kid turned us all in to Marley. I shuld of guessed, with my lucke. Ha, you are not readng this for me._

_I can’t let them be cot._

_I was never the mom I shuld have ben._

_Perhaps they’ll do beter with you. But please, make shore they know I lov them._

Dawn was barely beginning to grey the skies when Jack finally spoke, at the same time Ilona and Kruger were prying themselves apart, at the same time Grisha lost his seventh finger and Zeke awoke to the fear that his grandparents hated him now.

Muriel had been waiting all evening, but she didn’t want to rush him. She hadn’t the energy.

“It’s all set,” Jack said, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“First all-nighter in a while?” she asked wryly.

“It might not be our last,” he said, peering into her eyes. “Are you sure about this, Muriel? Are we even ready?”

Muriel groaned. Of course he would question. He was a journalist. “We’re not, but that won’t change my mind. Or yours, really.”

“Mine could be persuaded by you.”

She laughed. “Aren’t you cheeky tonight. Or this morning, to be accurate. Well, I won’t _be_ persuading you, so you can put those thoughts to bed.”

Muriel leaned over and kissed him on his forehead. “We ought to dress for today.”

 _There’s no proper dress for today_ , thought Jack. Still, he rose to follow her.

 

“Don’t go.” Kruger gripped Ilona’s hand and tried not to scream. He would never see her again, dressed in his clothing and hat, looking not unlike when he’d first met her.

He’d been kidding himself to think he’d find peace with death.

“Eren, please.” Her words felt like planets. Ilona stood on her tiptoes to kiss him one last time and tried to laugh. “Are you scared because you won’t get to die alone, nice and neat like you’d planned?”

“Like I said, you ruin everything,” he murmured, caressing her cheek.

Ilona pressed her forehead against his chest. Her voice shook. “I wish I could ruin more.”

“Finding you to love was the best thing that happened in my life, Ilona.” Kruger brushed her curls out of her eyes and drank in her gentle, smiling eyes. “I’m not you; I failed to love everyone. But I … I found someone. To love everyone, you have to start with someone, hmm? Maybe ‘everyone’ would have come with the time I don’t have. I will hope so.”

At any rate, he no longer wished to kill his colleagues, though he had chosen this bloody path. Perhaps a deity would welcome him, or at least understand him. He’d settle for understanding, even if he gained hell.

“I believe in you.” Ilona swallowed. She now knew what Kruger had discovered long ago: that love only frightened because it carried the potential for loss. “Be – besides, it’ll be for a moment, just a…brief moment. We _won’t_ lose each other, not here or wherever _there_ is. I have hope.”

“Godspeed,” she finished, stepping back.

“To you, too.” Kruger watched her back away. He had to meet with Lange before their ship departed; another moment and he’d be late. He couldn’t risk tardiness today.

He called out, his voice higher, as if he were once more five years old. “I love you!”

She was ready to reply, “I love you too.”

Ilona stretched out her hand toward him, let him see that she was terrified, too.

Kruger forced a smile. “Go ruin everything.”

Ilona’s curls obscured her face, but he saw passion through her voice. “See you later, Eren.”

 

“Ilona!” Tiberius turned his tear-streaked face to her. In an unusual display, he ran forward and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Sally didn’t move. She was still too frozen. “Zeke couldn’t have.”

“I don’t understand,” said Tiberius, wiping his eyes.

“Here.” Ilona pressed her handkerchief into his hand. “I don’t either, Tiberius.”

“Tiberius says we can’t see him again,” added Sally, her lips trembling.

“Not yet, just yet is all,” said Raina, rubbing Sally’s shoulder.

Ilona cleared her throat. “It’s going to be quite dangerous to see him for a while. You’re…Eldians outside your ghetto. If Zeke or anyone else tells the military who you are, things could become dangerous.”

“Deadly, you mean,” said Tiberius soberly.

Ilona nodded, too overcome to speak. “It’s so unfair.”

“I don’t want to leave. I want to go back and spy,” insisted Sally.

Dieter cringed from his position in the shadows. He’d let this happen. These kids were his fault.

“We can’t,” said Tiberius angrily. _Our life is dead! Stop talking about it!_

“The military is looking for you,” Ilona said carefully. “You’ll be living nice and safe here, though, with the Wiesels.”

“I don’t want to,” Sally repeated.

“We have to,” said Tiberius.

“Where’s Mom, Ilona? You have to know.”

Ilona didn’t, and she didn’t want to. “Your mom is safe.”

“Then why did she leave?” Tiberius began to cry again. “Why didn’t she take us?”

“Because she wanted you to be safe. She left because she loves you both, I promise.”

Ilona blinked back tears. If only she, or at least her parents, wouldn’t draw suspicion if they suddenly inherited two children.

“It doesn’t feel like love,” said Tiberius.

“I know, sweetheart.” Ilona embraced him again.

Dieter cleared his throat. Dawn spread fast. “We need to hurry.”

“I know.” Ilona avoided his gaze to squint at Sally. “Is that an old dress of mine?”

Sally cracked a smile. “Yes.”

“I’m sure they’ll buy you lots of pretty dresses.” Ilona winked at her.

“Are you sure we can’t come?” Raina asked. “I just – I want to ensure that they’re okay.”

“You’ve done enough. The less people know, the better. You understand.” Ilona wrapped her arms around Raina.

“Ilona,” said Father.

He wanted her to run to him, like when she was a little girl. But she just stayed there, staring.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out.

 _You helped cause this_ , she thought with a flash of anger she didn’t want to feel. “I am, too.”

Repairs could come later. Right now, let her mourn the loss of three childrens’ innocence, not to mention her husband.

“You really are a good soul,” said Dieter. He’d called her that before, didn’t she remember? He, he was a bad soul. Bad.

“Thank you.” Ilona paused, then dared to say, “You ought to become one.”

Tiberius felt bad for the man who’d stayed up all night playing dice with him, but Sally giggled.

“We ought to be along now.” Ilona took Tiberius’ hand and offered her other one to Sally.

 

Kruger heard the screams he’d heard a hundred times over for the last time, and somehow that made them more unsettling. He felt he deserved it.

“I told you everything I know – please –” Grisha’s voice begged, the voice of someone weak and weary from a night of mutilation. “I’m begging you to s-s-stop!”

Kruger swung wide the door. “How about it? Did you find out anything else?”

Lenin squinted in the light as he dropped another finger into a bloody pail, and a plump, bespectacled officer looked up. Someone new, apparently. “We haven’t discovered the Owl’s true identity.”

Grisha had new tears running down his face. He didn’t recognize him, Kruger thought with relief.

“Damn. This Owl is dangerous. Hiding deep in our government, forming an Eldian resistance group…”

Lenin half-smiled then, hearing Lange’s words in Kruger’s. Perhaps this was what Kristoph meant by calling Kruger a kind man – a man who would warn them about their Colonel’s displeasure. They had to torture this secret into the light!

“If it wasn’t for his son giving us information, this would have ended badly for us,” finished Kruger, his eyes glinting.

At the mention of Zeke, Grisha cringed.

 _Good_ , thought Kruger, angry for the child he’d never met, but whom Ilona loved.

“The boat is about to depart. Let’s take you to Paradis,” Kruger recited, as he had year after year.

Grisha sniffled as Lenin tied a blindfold over his eyes. His regret shone through regardless.

“Oh – Sergeant Major! Here’s the rest of our information!” Lenin hurriedly shoved a stack of papers towards Kruger.

He glanced at it. Most of the information was boring, the same every other interrogator had provided.

And then – this was it. The page on royal blood. Of course her husband would mention it, to save her. Kruger silently apologized to Dina as he slipped the paper out of the stack before heading towards Lange’s office.

“Here’s the interrogation papers, sir. Nothing on the Owl.”

“ _None_ of them have met the Owl,” muttered Lange, shaking his head. “Can you believe it?”

“You’re certain they’re telling the truth?” asked Kruger.

“Nearly. They’ve given up everything else.” Lange rolled his eyes. “Cowards.”

Kruger eyed him.

“I wouldn’t be much different in their shoes,” Lange added hastily. “But then again, I’d accept responsibility for my people’s crimes regardless.”

Gross’s face floated before Kruger, and he choked back a laugh. “Suppose one of them confesses more on the island?”

“Hmm. By pretending to offer a lighter punishment?” Lange folded his hands while he mulled over the idea. What had caused Kruger’s merciful side to emerge so suddenly? He’d never done this before.

“Perhaps. I meant more that the mere sight of death is enough to frighten cowardly men into clearly their consciences,” said Kruger.

“Ah.” _That_ was more in line with Sergeant Kruger’s behavior. “Well, I’m sure you’ll give me a full report. We can’t let this Owl operate much longer.”

“I’ll keep ready for any suspicious activity.”

“Please spread the warning to your comrades.”

“Yes, sir.” Kruger saluted before he exited his superior’s office, and hurried down the stairs.

An figure awaited between floors, bobbing up and down with nerves.

“You asked me to meet you, sir?” Kristoph asked. “No one’s here,” he added in hushed tones.

“You wouldn’t be stupid enough to be here elsewise.” Kruger half-smiled, certain that Kristoph understood the compliment.

“Deliver this note to my wife in an hour.”

“Yes, sir.”

Kruger nodded and hurried outside, heading towards the harbor. Gulls circled above, and the salt air was warm with a spring he wouldn’t see.

“Are you going to Paradis, too, sir?” Miller waved from the dock, and Kruger’s heart sunk.

 _Lenin should be here, not you_ , he thought. Miller could have done good.

 _I’ll kill you quickly_ , he promised, returning the private’s smile with a curt nod. Why was the world so broken that mercy involved killing?

As the steamboat chugged away, filled with crying prisoners and soldiers ranging from smug to terrified, Kruger told himself he oughtn’t look back.

But some sentimental part must have endured in his heart, because he disobeyed his philosophy to look back for the city of Ilona.

 

“To tell you the truth, I allowed that article to be published. I could have axed it. I didn’t to protect myself, and now I can’t forgive myself,” said Jack, wiping his brow. The coffee was too hot and he was drinking it too fast, but so be it.

“If you didn’t, someone would have written something more salacious,” pointed out Muriel.

“Maybe. We’ll never know, will we?” Jack sipped his coffee, listening to the faint sound of crickets Muriel had managed to cultivate even in the city center. Through their kitchen window, he watched three figures sneak into their garden. “They’re here.”

Muriel threw open their back door, summoning a brilliant smile. “Hi!”

“Hello, Muriel,” said Ilona, returning her smile. She nodded towards the short man shuffling towards them. “Jack.”

“Greetings,” he said gruffly.

“You look like a bear,” accused Sally.

Tiberius gasped, tightening his grip on Ilona. But Muriel burst out laughing. “He doesn’t, doesn’t he?”

“The bear’s called Jack.”

            “She just told them your name,” teased Muriel. He rolled his eyes in response.

“Can I pat your beard?” Sally asked suspiciously.

“It’s quite prickly,” said Muriel with another giggle. “Jack, let her.”

Jack knelt dutifully as Sally stroked his auburn beard. “I wish I could grow one.”

“Someday,” Tiberius said slyly. He didn’t like jokes, but they seemed to. He’d be what they wanted.

Ilona pursed her lips at him; at least one adult understood.

“You must be Tiberius,” said Muriel, extending her hand.

He took it gingerly. “Yes.”

Muriel squatted down to his level, just like Ilona used to do. “I’m so happy to meet you.”

Tiberius wondered if he should believe her.

“You’ll be safe here,” Muriel promised.

“Really?” asked Sally anxiously, glancing around the garden, where rosebushes were decorated with budding leaves and adorned with yellow crocuses.

“Really,” Jack confirmed.

“Jack and Muriel are two of the most trustworthy people I know,” Ilona added.

“So was Zeke,” Sally said.

“I know, sweetheart.” Ilona swallowed. “I shouldn’t be here much longer.”

“And I’ve a newspaper to print. Keep Muriel company for me today, all right?” Jack smiled at the children. Their children, now. It was too perfect to believe, except for their true mother on the run.

“You’ll come back, right?” Tiberius asked as Jack slipped back inside and Ilona edged towards the fence.

“As soon as I can,” Ilona promised. She could bring her parents to alleviate suspicion, if it ever quenched.

“Please do.” Tiberius grabbed her hand. “Will you see Zeke, too?”

Ilona hesitated.

“I know we can’t, yet.” He blinked back tears.

“You will, someday,” said Ilona, relieved he didn’t blame his friend.

“But can you see him now? Please?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” she said softly.

“For most adults, that means no.” Tiberius peered up at her. “Please let it mean yes for you.”

“Okay, sweetheart.” When Ilona embraced him, he returned her embrace what felt like a hundredfold.

 

His speech had remained unchanged for a decade and a half, but today Kruger felt disconnected from his body. “For treason, you will receive your life sentences here. You will be mindless titans, conscious of nothing but your ability to detect humans, seek them, and devour them until death.”

Grisha twisted around to see his face more clearly, the eyes of a man hopelessly desperate to stop this injustice. _Good_.

“The problem is after you transform, you’ll probably never die,” Kruger finished, and for the first time he felt envy. He didn’t want to die, not now.

Grisha stared at the stone wall he knelt on. “I’ve…seen you before.”

Kruger stiffened, though he’s been waiting for this. He deserved it. When he spoke, his voice was dull. “Do you still remember?”

Grisha’s fury reignited. That day was the reason he was here! “What happened that day – how could I _ever_ forget?!”

 _I’m glad you didn’t._ Kruger, however, said nothing as more Eldians were amassed on the wall.

“Hurry up and move,” said Miller nervously to the blonde man he’d seen before, somewhere around Liberio. Why hadn’t he known back then that he’d be exetuging him today?

“I’m begging you!” The man burst out. “Just kill me, please. I don’t want to become a titan.”

Miller swallowed and looked to Kruger, who shook his head. Pleas such as his were so common he barely heard them anymore.

“Grise,” whispered Grisha, clamoring for the comfort of friendship.

“Grisha!” cried the man as Miller lifted his blindfold. “Is that you? Why? Why did Zeke turn us in? What happened?”

Grisha choked back a sob.

“Hey, why won’t you talk to me? You said my name in the first place! Weren’t we friends? What causes a son to betray his family? What kind of monstrous person are you? What did you _do_?”

Grisha moaned then, squirming against his ties.

“You piece of shit! You were all talk in the end! We were blind to trust you with the Restoration and _especially_ with Dina!” If they’d nearly sent the mayor’s Marleyan daughter to a breeding program, what sort of horrors awaited sweet Dina?

Grisha had no response. He deserved it.

“Why won’t you answer me?” sobbed Grise. He’d thought confronting his leader would give him courage, but all he felt was emptiness.

“I’m sorry,” gasped Grisha.

Grise shook his head, determined to release the last of his venom, to dig himself straight to hell. “How could we have trusted you? Eldia is dead.”

“Well,” said Gross’s slick voice behind Kruger. “This one seems quite energetic.”

Grisha froze, and Kruger’s heart sank. He’d thought allowing Grise’s outburst would prepare Grisha for his duty to come, but now it would kill this other man.

“Let’s free him.” Gross licked his lips.

“Sir?” Miller was shoved aside as Gross delivered a well-aimed kick to Grise’s spine.

“Grise!” shrieked Grisha as his friend – his friend whose critique came too late – tumbled to the sand below. “Grise!”

“Oh, he’ll be fine. The sand’s all soft and nearly as welcoming as the titans that will be chasing him soon. Hey, buddy! You better start running north! Maybe you’ll reach the walls!” Gross cackled.

“S-Sergeant Gross?” stammered Miller. _Ilona was right, Ilona was right._

“Oh, Miller. You’re new here, aren’t you? Well, see, titans can’t go near the ocean. They’ll be drawn away by one sacrifice. It’s very efficient, isn’t it?” Gross smiled as the terrified creature below. They were always like this. Frozen, confused. They’d expected an unconscious existence, but still an existence, and now they had none.

“He’ll be gobbled up quick, right, Kruger?”

“Yes,” Kruger said, stiff as always.

Gross clapped his hands together, as much from glee as leadership. “Al right, everyone! We’ve got a lot to attend to, so let’s move!”

“No!” Grisha screamed as needles jabbed his friends’ necks, as he had to watch them fall into mindless monsters, as Grise stumbled and fell, then picked himself up, running with his hands still tied behind him.

He deserved this. He’d caused this, hurting Zeke. Maybe – maybe family wasn’t too late – “Stop! My brothers! That’s _Grise_!”

“Ah, Kruger, he’s so annoying. Turn him already,” snapped Gross. Why the fuck hadn’t his partner helped out?

_I’m not giving into you ever again._

“No, I will question him more.” Kruger watched the monster men chasing their prey, as he always did, a penance of sorts.

“Fine, fine. You put too much heart into your work,” scoffed Gross. “Ooh, what a woman next. Pity she’s a devil like the rest of these runts.”

He caught Kruger’s glare and grinned. Ah, to aggravate both the vermin and his partner in one. He felt the most powerful man present.

“Dina,” whispered Grisha in disbelief.

“My dear.” Dina set her jaw, staring straight ahead at her fate.

“Wait! Didn’t you understand what I told you? She’s important to Marley; she has royal blood!” shrieked Grisha. He may have failed Zeke, but he would _not_ fail Dina!

 _Oh. My. Holy. Ymir._ Fear shot through Kruger, and he slammed Grisha’s head into the stone.

“Huh?” said Gross. “What the fuck?”

“Shut up,” Kruger growled to Grisha.

“I can’t listen to him anymore. You shut him up and turn him already. He can live as titans with his beloved.”

“Grisha, it doesn’t matter what happens. No matter what, I’ll find you,” whispered Dina, even as the needle slid into her spine, because sometimes the best opposition was done in whispers.

“How perfect. You can find romance as titans.” Gross threw her off the wall, and Grisha screamed from his soul, the scream Kruger wanted to release himself.

 

“This cannot be real.” Dieter Minsk stared at the newspaper in his hand.

“It’s real, sir,” said Della. “Freshly printed, even.” She glanced at the inkstains on her fingers.

“Dieter!” Adler burst into the room. “Have you seen the paper?”

Dieter waved the pages in his hand.

“Just what is your daughter trying to accomplish?” Adler demanded. “Stopping all our hearts?”

“Starting, more like,” murmured Dieter, as his throat tightened.

**_To Punish Eldian Ancestors, Marleyan Military Punishes Their Children_ **

_By Ilona Minsk_

_She was eight. Like many curious children, Eldian and Marleyan alike, she ventured beyond her ghetto to see a Zeppelin. A kindly officer offered to take her home while her brother was beaten._

_The next day, her half-eaten body surfaced in the river._

“Where is Sergeant Major Gross now? We ought to question him immediately,” declared Adler. “We can’t – we’re the righteous ones. We can’t protect a sadistic child killer. Good God, she was _eight_.”

“Della!” Dieter shook his head. “Call General Truitt and Colonel Lange in for questions _now_.”

“Then again, perhaps this is an exaggeration? Gross did arrest her, after all. Perhaps she’s taking her revenge,” said Adler.

“And risking sullying her reputation more? Ilona does not speak lies,” Dieter said.

“Besides.” Della straightened, willing all courage to enter her veins. “Lars Gross, his son, was in my class. He’s everything his father is. I _believe_ your daughter.”

Adler’s mouth opened as Dieter narrowed his eyes.

“My God. The people are going to riot, and I can’t fault them!”

“We have to restore their trust. Della, if you’re comfortable, send for the Military leaders immediately. This is an emergency,” said Dieter.

He couldn’t look away anymore.

 

“Bahahaha!” Gross doubled over. These screams were the best; they tingled every nerve in his body. They made him want to fuck something. “Look, she never listened! She just went after Grise. Any chance he was her side-lover?”

“Shut up!” screeched Grisha.

“Excuse me?”

“It was you! Fifteen years ago, you fed my sister – my eight year old sister – to the dogs!”

 _Yes_. Kruger clenched his fists. Finally, someone mentioned what everyone in Marley would soon know.

Gross grinned at the memory as a short man – Ryder Braun – was dragged forward. “Hey, is he the last?”

“Yes,” said a soldier.

“Leave him to me.” Gross shivered with excitement.

“All of you, return to the boat,” barked Kruger. He felt as if he was made of steel.

“What’s going on?” Miller asked in a high-pitched voice.

“It’s the Sergeant’s personal fun-time.” Wolfe rolled his eyes.

“But – even if she was an Eldian – doing that to an eight-year-old…” Miller trailed off. _Ilona was right. Ilona was right._ He glanced at the titan horde in the distance. Who were the real monsters?

Gross lit a cigarette and offered it to Kruger, who shook his head fiercely. “I have an idea for quite the performance. I remember now, young man. So you know what? I’ll make It equal. You’ll be eaten by him.”

He shook Ryder’s shoulders as the man whimpered.

“He’ll be a three or four meter titan.” Gross emptied most of his syringe. The pink liquid evaporated with a hiss upon the stone. “I recommend resisting longer.”

“Why?” gasped Grisha, the same question Kruger had asked for years.

“Why?” Gross blew out a stream of smoke. “For fun. Why else? Isn’t the idea of monsters eating humans interesting, even if some find it hard to watch?” He winked at Kruger, who tightened his grip on Grisha’s shoulder.

“Human nature craves violence. We’ve been peaceful from Eldia for too long, no? We call peace good, but we need violence to feel alive, hmm? I don’t know how we live thinking of death every day, but that’s normal in our world, isn’t it? You want to know _why_? Because I think peace is bullshit.”

 _Because it turns you on,_ Kruger thought.

“Oh, I’m always prepared for death. But I understand the cruelty of this world. I looked violence in the eyes and _knew_ it. It was educational, actually. Did you know, your sister’s death was education for my sons? And they turned out all right, so I think I did well.” Gross kicked Ryder off the wall.

“Does…your heart not ache?” whispered Grisha.

“Ha! I get what you mean. Would I feel different if my son were fed to dogs? Well, it’s not like he never did anything unforgiveable.”

Grisha and Kruger were both burning now.

“My sister,” Grisha managed, “only wanted to see the Zeppelin. She dreamt of riding to faraway lands.”

“What a shame. If only she wasn’t an Eldian.” Gross shrugged. “Look there. At that guy.”

Ryder’s titan glowered up at them.

“That’s your true form,” hissed Gross, sidling up to Grisha. “No one else can become Eldians. Just you all. The _entire world_ hates you and desires your extinction.” He clenched his fist.

“What?” Grisha trembled. No. Zeke had to live. He had to. He _deserved_ life.

“You asked if my heart would ache? How could it? You call _us_ the murderers? What were _you_ planning once your restoration took place?”

Grisha understood. Kruger saw the horror on his face. Good.

“No,” Grisha said. “Your history is wrong. Ymir used her power to cultivate, to build – Marley lied!”

 _Oh, come on._ Kruger needed this doctor to listen to his instincts once more, like he had fifteen years ago.

“Ha! Your history is glorious, eh? Ha! I’ve been waiting so long to see this. You better make a good show out of being eaten, all right? Too bad it’s not your wife, eh?” Gross grappled Grisha away from Kruger. “Stop struggling!”

“You’re a damn lunatic!” screamed Grisha.

“Go see your sister! I deserve entertainment, and I’ll have it!” Gross laughed and grabbed for Grisha again.

Kruger stepped forward ad, with a surge of strength, knocked his partner off the wall.

_For Ilona, for Faye, for Dina and Grisha and Zeke._

He shook with adrenaline as he drew his knife. He wouldn’t let Gross occupy another minute of his life, not even to see his death.

The blade slit through his palm. “Mark well, Grisha – this is how you use the power of the titans.”  

 

A knock on the door was hardly what Ilona expected, much less wanted.

“Yes – oh, Kristoph.” Dressed proper again, Ilona looked like she’d spent a typical morning tidying their home or whatever women were expected to do.

“Sergeant Major Kruger asked me to deliver this to you.” Kristoph handed her a letter, unsure why she went all teary-eyed on him. “Uh – are you okay, Mrs. Kruger?”

Ilona forced a laugh. _Mrs. Kruger_. The name felt so foreign. “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you kindly, Kristoph.”

“Is there anything you need?”

“You’re very sweet. Stay that way,” Ilona said, shutting the door to leave a bewildered soldier on their steps.

_Away all day. Take care if you partake in Eldian relief today. Our blabbermouth is spreading rumors of special blood, and I’d hate for you be caught in this mess._

_Love, Eren_

Ilona caressed his signature with her fingers, as if she could touch him through the ink.

Clearly his letter was more than a warning. He wanted her to be caught in this mess, to shut Zeke up about his special blood.

_The guards’ hands on her shoulders, Gross’s hair on her cheeks –_

Ilona doubled over. They wouldn’t send a child to breed, would they?

Perhaps, perhaps not; at the very least they would groom him for it. An orphaned _child_. She’d draw suspicion again to stop a child’s exploitation, and Kruger knew that.

 _Fuck danger_. Ilona clenched her jaw. Finding Zeke’s location wouldn’t be difficult. The difficulty would be finding him alone and forcing him to believe her.

No. She couldn’t force. She could only hope.

 _Please, if Anyone is listening, let Zeke know he’s worth everything._ Ilona slammed her palm against the splintered wall.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Chapter Eighteen**

**So, this is it. The final chapter. Enjoy!**

 

“Wait!” Ilona raced down the street to Kristoph’s retreating figure. “Do you know where they would hold the Jaeger boy, Kristoph?”

She smoothed her purple scarf. She’d dressed fancy for bravery today. They couldn’t still remove the rich from her, and that pained her eyes.

“No. Er – is everything all right?” Kristoph may have possessed a long nose and scared cheeks full of painful pustules, but he was a more beautiful sight than many soldiers. She hoped he knew that.

“Nothing more than normal,” Ilona said dryly.

“I – I see. Can I help with anything?”

“Help yourself, and go back to headquarters. You’re a good soul.” Ilona placed her hand on his arm and smiled into his face. Maybe soldiers like Kristoph weren’t beyond hope.

 _No one is_. But, oh, there was Gross’s smirk before her, and she felt proven wrong.

Ilona stared at the cracked cobblestone beneath her feet. She should see Zeke second, after she accomplished the secret she couldn’t even tell her husband. Perhaps the promise of Zeke would give herself the determination she’d need to stay free.

But – just in case – Ilona found herself marching towards Liberio.

 

“What,” thundered Dieter from his ornate desk, “the hell am I reading?”

General Truitt squirmed in the seat facing the mayor. Colonels Otto and Lange sat silent behind their general. “With all due respect, sir, do you really trust your daughter?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do,” snapped Dieter. The veins in his forehead looked ready to pop.

“Are you also fucking Eldians?” snickered Truitt.

Lange’s mouth fell open, and Otto blinked. How dare the general?

“In case you haven’t noticed,” said a quickly sober Truitt as he rose to his feet, “the military won’t suffer for this. _You_ will. Your power is considerably less, thanks to your daughter. Between her wantonness and this article, you seem incapable of governing. It won’t be long before your downfall, _mayor_.”

“So screw me over for allowing the rampage for one of my most productive officers. It was only Eldians. I did the best I could for our people, and I don’t regret it,” declared Truitt.

Lange’s bones chilled. He hated Eldians like any normal human, but the cruelty of people like Gross and Truitt –

“Let me take the fall,” said Lange.

“What?” All three men turned to him in shock.

“Sirs, Gross was directly under my command. I ought to have done more, sooner,” he said with a hard swallow.

“You are only prolonging this man’s downfall,” seethed Truitt, pointing to Minsk.

“You ought not to count on that,” Dieter said, recovering his senses. If he went down, so did the entire council, and they were all selfish enough to preserve each other, that much was certain. Unless he resigned, which he’d considered before – but he wanted to change more first. _Actually_ change, like Ilona would.

“Sirs, I have sinned against Marley by allowing a serial killer and rapist to continue in the Marley military. I hand myself over to you for trial.” Lange barely comprehended his own actions – just this morning, he’d hoped to make General after the restorationalists’ arrests.

But people like Truitt and Gross could not be in power, and now the mayor had time to counteract them.

Was he noble? Hardly, but it hardly mattered. Lange stood.

“Escort Colonel Lange back to headquarters. As he’s graciously turned himself in, let him collect his things before sending him to interrogation,” said Dieter. “And you _will_ allow him to collect, because I am still Mayor, General Truitt. Colonel Otto, accompany these fools.”

 

Kruger staggered out of a steaming titan for the first time in nearly thirteen years. Blood and ocean dripped down his face.

At least he’d made Miller’s death first and quickest. Still, the horror of his comrades’ faces – the horror of those who still did not understand why they were dying, and never would – ate him. _Fuck_.

He fumbled for the knife in his pockets and broke Grisha’s bonds. He pressed Ilona’s handkerchief to his nose. “So. I suppose you have questions for me?”

Demons overtook Grisha’s face, as if he didn’t believe himself worthy. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Kruger breathed in the flowery scent of his wife. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have much time.”

“Then who are you – Owl?” Grisha asked softly. A shadow of the doctor emerged.

“My name is Eren Kruger. I have one of the Nine Titans’ powers in me…so yes, I am one of Ymir’s subjects, just like you.” _I’m sorry. I’m so sorry_. He waited for Grisha’s outrage.

“But…but if you infiltrated the government, how did you get past their blood tests?” stammered Grisha.

Practical, doctors were.

Kruger half-smiled. “You only need one cooperative doctor. He too was an Eldian who falsified his own medical records, too. He’s long since passed, but…” Kruger shrugged. How could he get through to this man?

“Doctors make good spies. You have the right education and social standing. You have the scientific acumen to study titan chemistry. Really, you did well, leading the restorationalists, having a child with Dina Fritz, even recruiting Zeke. It wasn’t a bad plan. I was helping you.” He looked down. “But in the end, Grise was right, wasn’t he?”

Grisha was silent for a moment. Gulls danced above them.

 _Keep talking_ , Kruger wanted to shout, but he found it hard to breathe.

“I was a terrible father, a terrible husband, a terrible _man_.” Grisha glared at Kruger. “Why am I the one left?!”

Kruger was too focused on finding oxygen to respond.

“Dina was special!” Grisha cried. “She could have dominated the titans! Even Marley tells our children that! If you hadn’t hidden her heritage, Dina wouldn’t be like those mindless monsters!”

“You’re right.” Kruger swallowed the lump in his throat. How much could he say? Dina was a decision of sentiment, nothing more.

“Answer me, Owl!” screamed Grisha, pounding his bandaged hands into his chest. “Why am I the only one left?!”

Blood dripped onto Kruger’s coat. “You might want to consider your fingers.”

“Ha! Thanks for the thought, but you weren’t concerned earlier when they just had to take one more off,” snapped Grisha. He grabbed him again. “Why didn’t you stop them? You could have become a titan and saved us all!”

Kruger slumped to his knees.

“Wait! What’s wrong? You’re so pale,” gasped Grisha.

“I cut off thousands of fingers. Tiberius Berg. Women. Children. I thought I did it all to serve Eldia,” whispered Kruger.

Grisha knelt before him.

“I’m entrusting you with my final mission: you alone,” Kruger insisted. “Can I…Can you let me explain?”

 

The windows to Werner’s bakery shimmered with cracks, and the door was off its hinges to reveal a dark interior. Though she couldn’t afford to stop moving, Ilona closed her eyes for a moment, wishing that friendly old man a quick and painless end.

But _life_. She craved life for all of them. Her jaw clenched as she approached the Jaegers’ apartment.

Ransacked, same as the bakery. People had thrown rocks through their window – Eldians attacking Eldians. Just to prove that they were better, that they deserved to stay safe.

“Excuse me.” Ilona blocked the path of the old lady brushing past her. “Do you know what happened here?”

“Everyone knows,” replied the woman, rolling her eyes. “Don’t play me, Marleyan. You won’t find me in a particularly cheery mood.”

“Mom, don’t talk like that!” cried a young woman, clutching the older one. “I’m so sorry, Miss!”

“It’s fine. I know, too. Do you know what happened to their son? I heard he was with his grandparent’s; is he still there? Where are they?” Ilona clasped her hands.

The old lady spat at Ilona’s feet. “Leave him be.”

“Mom!” The younger woman sounded panicked. “They live right there.”

She pointed to a pretty building adjacent to the Jaegers’.

“Thank you. And I – I mean you no harm,” said Ilona.

“Thank you, Miss,” stammered the younger woman. Mom was going to get them killed, just like the doctor killed his family.

But as the Marleyan girl stepped towards the Jaegers’, another way to save her family emerged: she recalled the sign posted by the gate. _A Marleyan secret operative called the Owl…_

 

“I’m such a fool.” Zeke sobbed at the table in his grandparents’ kitchen.

“No, you’re not. I tried, Zeke, I really did,” lied Fischer, gripping his pupil’s small hand. He had _wanted_ to try. But his reward would have been a trip to Paradis to be a tasty titan snack.

 _You think that helps now_? Mrs. Jaeger pressed a shaking hand to her mouth and turned her gaze away.

“I’m sorry. I know I’m – supposed to be happy – for Marley, and I am, I really am,” Zeke insisted, grappling to believe it. “I just miss them.”

“They were allegiants of the devil. I know it hurts,” Fischer said softly. “It’s natural. But we have to know that Marley is just.”

“I know. I’m sure someday I’ll feel it, too.” Zeke straightened. “When I’m older.”

Fischer laughed uneasily. “Yes, when you’re older.”

There was a gentle knock on Grandma’s door, and Zeke flinched. They were soldiers come to tell him Mom and Father were dead, weren’t they?

But when Grandpa opened the door, Zeke gasped in relief. “Ilona!”

“Zeke,” she whispered, her shoulders sagging in gratitude. “You’re here.”

“Miss – uh, Mrs. Kruger.” Fischer stood. He’d seen her from a distance, but he’d never interacted with her. The mayor’s daughter. The Eldian-lover. The military wife.

At the sight of an officer, Ilona smiled to mask her distrust. “May I ask who you are?”

“Captain Fischer, ma’am. Zeke is one of my prize pupils.”

“I see.” For a moment, her eyes scalded him. _You did this_.

Of course, she comprehended that Zeke’s betrayal was more complicated than anyone but Zeke knew, but she hadn’t expected to be face-to-face with the man who’d led this child and so many others to ruin.

Fischer fidgeted. “I must return to the academy. I will see you tomorrow, Warrior.”

“Yes, you will,” Zeke said quickly.

“You’ve shown tremendous bravery. We’re very grateful for your humility and loyalty,” said Fischer, with a solemn nod.

Mr. Jaeger noted the infamous Mrs. Kruger’s horror. At least Zeke had one Marleyan on his side. His grandson would need her.

“Pleasure to meet the two of you.” Fischer nodded to the grandparents, the parents who ought to have raised their son to be a better father, as coolly as he could.

“Oh, Zeke.” Ilona threw her arms around him as soon as the door closed.

“It’s okay,” he said, pulling away. “They were traitors.”

“You needn’t hide your emotions. You’re safe here.” Ilona let her tears fall. “I know about the sentence.”

 _Safe. Safe. Safe._ Zeke hung his head and sniffled as large tears rolled down his cheeks. He didn’t feel safe, not even with Fischer, though he desperately tried. And he was _tired_.

“I didn’t want them to die!” he wailed, grabbing onto her skirt. “I just wanted them to stop making me their savior!”

He wanted to say more, to confess he’d done it for her, to save her. But what if she rejected him?

“I know, I know.” Ilona wrapped her arms around him again, and this time, he returned her embrace. What was it Mom had said to her? “You know, Zeke, there’s nothing you can do to make me love you less, and I’m sure your parents felt the same way. If mine told me they were still proud of me, even when I nearly ruined them, I know yours feel the same.”

“Really?” Zeke wiped his running nose.

“Yes.”

“But Sally and Tiberius must hate me now,” he whimpered.

“No. No, they don’t.” Ilona smoothed Zeke’s hair. “They’re your friends. They won’t stop rooting for you. Ever.”

Zeke peered up at her, and she winked at him.

Did she know where they were? Zeke’s heart soared, and he shuddered. He daren’t ask. He didn’t want to have to tell Marley.

“Zeke, I have something else I need to ask from you,” Ilona began hesitantly.

“From me?” Did she want him to write his parents? Or were they gone already?

“I know you mentioned you have royal blood,” she said, noticing his grandparents’ suddenly frightened demeanor.

“Yes.”

“Don’t mention it again. Can you do that for me?”

“Why?”

“Look at you, always asking questions. Good for you.” Ilona chuckled. “I’m supposed to say ‘because it’s not important.’ But the truth is I don’t know that. What I do know is that even in Marley, there are some very mean people. People who would use you like your parents, except they might not love you. Not all Marleyans are good, Zeke, and not all Eldians are bad.”

“Yes, we are. We killed,” Zeke said automatically.

Now wasn’t the time. Ilona pinched his cheek. “Well, I think you’re rather good.”

He half-smiled.

“Can you promise me? For now?”

Even Fischer? But he would feel better with no one knowing. If special blood had never existed!

Ilona’s dark eyes didn’t blink as she pled with him.

Zeke nodded.

“Thank you.” Ilona hugged him again. “I have to be off.”

“You’ll return soon?” Zeke asked eagerly.

“As soon as I can,” Ilona promised, determination firing through her veins.

As she exited Liberio, Private Ivan Torvald stepped away from his position as guard. He held up the note he’d received from Otto, signaling the officer across the way. “I’m on it.”

 

“That day…the day I first met you. If I hadn’t called out and stopped you, your sister might still be alive,” Kruger mused. The breeze caressed his face, like Ilona’s fingers, encouraging him to spill his soul.

“I think it’s more likely we both would have been killed,” Grisha admitted, a thought he’d never told anyone before.

Kruger sighed. “It eases my conscience to know you think that. But I don’t know. But then you probably wouldn’t have hated Marley so much.”

“You picked me because I hated Marley?” Grisha remembered the kindly woman he’d called a friend not long ago. Did he really hate Marley?

“Partially. I was you once. A child watching through the closet as my revolutionary family was burned alive, too scared too move. My father’s friends’ saved me. After that, I chose my mission to restore Eldia, and I didn’t know. I didn’t know that meant taking fingers of my brethren, skinning them and kicking them off the wall as they transformed into monsters. The endless slaughter kept me on my mission.” A tear ran down Kruger’s cheek, the tear of someone who believed himself damned. “Maybe I’m still that child looking at the world through a crack in the closet door.”

Grisha’s heart chilled. “So what is the mission you have for me?”

Could he refuse?

“Enter the walls and take back the Founding Titan. I’ll be giving you my titan power. You’ll become a titan and eat me.” Kruger hardened his voice at the dismay in Grisha’s eyes. “You have to.”

“I don’t. Why won’t you?” demanded Grisha.

“Because I haven’t told you everything. The titan powers kill their host in thirteen years. I inherited mine nearly thirteen years ago.” Kruger noted the horror on Grisha’s face. “You would have hesitated for Zeke if you knew that.”

Grisha said nothing. He didn’t have to.

 

“You know what we have to do, then.” Raina had met him at the door for his lunch break, and though both of them sat at their long and empty dining table, they’d requested no food from their servants.

“I do,” said Dieter, rubbing his eyes. The dark circles had advanced ever since Ilona’s arrest. “This won’t repay it.”

“It can’t be repaid,” Raina said sharply. “This man – this Gross – raped our daughter. Because she dared to think that Eldians were equal.”

“Extreme views.”

“Are they?” Raina asked softly. “Don’t you feel guilt, too, in your heart?”

“You don’t know the half of what I’ve allowed. My sins against my own kin happened because I allowed so much.” Dieter rested his head on the table. “If Truitt takes over, I can’t say I didn’t deserve it.”

“No,” Raina said. “Truitt is worse. He doesn’t yet feel guilt. At least you do, and you’ll act on it, won’t you?”

Dieter smiled at his wife. Once more, the spirit that had survived multiple suicides emerged healthy, and he loved her all the more. “When ought we start?”

“Today. Tonight. As soon as you’re free. Don’t you see, someone has to demonstrate reconciliation. Why not the Mayor?” Raina stood. “I’ve bought a toy, but I feel that’s a meager gift for a child orphaned.”

“I’ll be out on time. Despite the chaos Ilona’s article caused.” Dieter hesitated. “Do you think she’s right?”

“As in, do I think Ilona did this for revenge?” Raina smiled. “You spent more time with her than I, but you have much to learn about our daughter.”

“I look forward to it,” he said truthfully. Today, he would return to his office and do the right thing, whatever it was, and fuck the consequences. Today, he would be like Ilona.

 

“So all the documents you sent were just lies to boost our morale?” Grisha wanted to vomit up the air in his stomach. “What is the truth, then? Tell me!”

Kruger looked at the skyline of trees, across the island of family he’d never meet. “Our ancestor, Ymir, was an ordinary girl who interacted with extraordinary organic material. Or maybe not. We don’t know. There is no such thing as truth in this world.”

 _There is_ , he heard Ilona insisting. _Even if we can’t know it._

 _You ruin everything_ , he shot back in his mind. His heart warmed.

“Anyone can become a god or a devil. All it takes is a credible claim. 1700 years of genocide? We’d have no Marleyans left. Ymir brought nothing but riches? Since when are humans that noble?”

“Is it true, then, that Dina had royal blood? Did that even matter?” Grisha needed to know. He needed to hear _why_ Dina wasn’t alive. She hadn’t been a bad mother. She’d just been unfortunate enough to marry him.

Kruger lowered his eyes. Grisha would have his answer, wouldn’t he. _So he did love Dina after all._ “It’s a fact that Dina was of royal blood.”

“Then _why_?!”

“Because she was royal,” Kruger choked out. “They’d force her into their breeding program – a program where they would rape her until she died just so she’d give them a few more powerful titans. I think…I thought turning into a monster might be better than that.”

Ilona’s sobs rose in his ears. He cursed quietly.

“I never asked her. I know. I know. But…seeing her final moments…I think I was right.”

After a few minutes of silence, Kruger shook his head. “I wasn’t strong enough to save our brethren. But you are. Grisha, I’ve done all I can. Now it’s your turn.”

 

Ilona swept past the gossiping officers and security just lackadaisical enough to arouse her suspicions. Perhaps they had guessed her plan, and this was a trap. Well, she could work with that.

Outside the military headquarters, an officer huffed to the passing secretary. “Tell Torvald that Eldian bitch was right.”

“It seems too obvious,” said another.

“Who cares. Prepare,” snapped the first officer. “We have the Owl.” The more time they waited, the more time she had to blow the place.

 _Third floor_. Ilona scrambled up the stairs, praying to whomever listened for help. She didn’t want to hurt her family again. She didn’t want to be raped again. She would rather die.

But if her actions today saved Zeke, Tiberius, and Sally, she would gladly suffer the above and more.

Colonel Lange’s office was locked, but that hardly slowed Ilona. She’d been taught by Tetrault, their butler, to pick locks when she was seven.

They had to be here.

Ilona rifled throough the papers scattered about the colonel’s desk. How did someone with such responsibility keep anything straight?

Ah, but the Eldian Restoration folder lay on his seat – keeping it warm, perhaps.

Ilona couldn’t help it. Perhaps Jack’s teachings had imbedded deeper than she’d thought. She glanced through it. Descriptions and sketches of Alma, lists of neighbors who could have possibly pieced information together, every letter Kruger had ever written.

She clutched the letter Kruger had written her this morning, the one signed _I love you_. This too would be sacrificed.

She placed the letter atop the folder and pulled the matches from the secret pouch in her skirt.

Just a few more moments, and they could have her. She almost dared believe they hadn’t a plot after all.

“Stand up right now, you.”

Ilona raised her eyes to Lenin. The one who’d been excited by the Jaegers’ downfall, the one who’d heard Gross brag about his rape.

 _Kill him._ Ilona shivered away her fury, as Kruger must have so many times. He was a young soldier who had the potential to learn. She would believe that, even if she didn’t feel so.

“I won’t.”

“You have to. Or I’ll shoot you right now.”

“How long have you been watching?” she asked, still crouched on the ground, as if she were talking to her Eldian children.

“Long enough to see you commit another crime. Still betraying your blood, aren’t you? And now your husband.” Lenin trembled, holding his pistol. “He’s a decent soldier.”

“Why?” Ilona stayed still. “What makes him so? I guess what I’m asking is, are you?”

“I’ll have to kill you if you don’t move. I don’t want to hurt you; I think that’s decent.” Lenin’s arm cramped. He was scared. But he had already tortured. He would have to kill sometime. Might as well be now. It would be a relief, to know he was a murderer now, instead of wondering _when_.

“No, I don’t think so.” Ilona stared at the match in her hand, the match the desk obstructed.

“Raise your hands.” He was supposed to say that, wasn’t he? How could he have forgotten?

“You hurt me with every fucking insult to Eldians, you know that? And you hurt yourself. Think about it.” Ilona shook her head. “When you were five and dreamt of adulthood, did you desire to be a torturer?”

“I’m proud to sacrifice for the good of my blood!”

“No, you’re not. It’s wrong. Their blood is red like ours, isn’t it?” Ilona was ready, but only because she wouldn’t think of it.

“It’s still different. You’ve betrayed your kind.”

As long as he was talking, she was in control. She scraped the match against the wooden desk, felt her paper confession in her sleeve. _I am the Night Owl. I’m sorry – Mom, Father. I’m sorry I can’t regret it._

She pressed the flame against the folder.

“What are you doing?” Lenin pressed his finger against the trigger as she lit another match.

“Move, Private.” Colonel Lange, escorted by Truitt and Otto, pushed him aside.

“Hello.” Ilona didn’t stand. She didn’t need to. She kept lighting matches. Flame joined flame after flame.

“On your feet, whore!” cried Truitt. Their evidence was burning! “Your libel of Gross wasn’t bad enough?!”

“Did you think that by abusing me, you would stop me?” Ilona’s heart pounded as she took in a gulp of air. “No.”

Lange saw Lenin raise his pistol again – and suddenly he was firing, again and again and again, so quickly the private never got a chance.

And it didn’t hurt so bad, Ilona thought, as bullets tore her heart apart.

 

The gun clicked, emptied of bullets, but Lange tried once more, just to be certain.

“Get water!” Truitt barked to Lenin, who scurried off yelling.

“Well, nicely calculated, sir.” Truitt watched Lange stomp on the folder, on the carpet, hit his desk.

When Lenin and ten more privates returned to throw water on his desk, Lange desperately grabbed the folder But oh, only charcoal and indiscernible ink stains remained.

Lange doubled over, gasping. His sole achievement was ash.

“Saving us from this Night Owl might have done you a favor. And myself, too, considering her father.” Truitt nudged her blood-soaked body with his toe.

Lange had the distinct urge to wipe her blood on his hands. He’d never killed a Marleyan before.

“What a monster,” growled Otto.

“But who do you mean?” asked Lange, exchanging a pointed glance with Lenin.

Lenin swallowed. He had already tortured. It was too late. Lange had merely prolonged his first kill.

But then he watched Lange close the traitor’s eyes, her shiny, once smiling eyes, the eyes that knew what he’d done, the eyes of a once revered lady, the eyes of one extinguished on her knees.

 _Think about it_ , she had said.

He dreaded he would.

 

“I’m not right for this,” Grisha said quietly. “Look. Look at the man who enjoyed feeding my sister to dogs was eaten alive himself. This should have been my best revenge, and I – no. You asked me if I enjoyed it. How could I? I could hardly stand his screams. He was in so much pain, and you know, I felt the same way when you killed your own men. I guess I’m just a doctor after all…”

Panic rose in him. “I haven’t changed, don’t you see? I lost my comrades, my wife and child – even my fingers! I would never pay this price again. I – I can’t hate anymore, Eren Kruger.”

            Kruger nodded. “You know, your father was smart. He smiled and nodded as the authorities let a serial killer through, just to keep the rest of his family. But his son didn’t learn a thing. His son ruined his own wife and son and everything he had.”

            “What are you saying?” Grisha’s voice shook. He knew that, dammit!

“Stand.” Kruger struggled to his feet. “Fight. Ruin everything.”

Grisha avoided his gaze.

“Promise me. I don’t have time. I need you to promise me you’ll fight for Eldia’s freedom and dignity – I need you to stand.”

“I can’t,” moaned Grisha, trapped in self-hatred. Because he did hate, still. He hated himself.

“You _can_.” What would Ilona do? Kruger fished out the photograph of the Jaegers. “I took this from your house. Look to them for courage.”

“No, I won’t. I can’t, don’t you see?!”

“No will to look. No will to stand. No will to fight.” Kruger understood, but he had no time to understand.

“Don’t motivate me with hatred. All I have left is the weight of my sins,” said Grisha.

Zeke, hatred? Dina, hatred? Was he even listening? “Stop this. I chose you because you went outside the walls. Because you saw a boundary and stepped over it. If you hadn’t – you never would have met Dina or had Zeke. You wouldn’t have this photograph. Your sister would be married with children now, probably.”

“But you went past the wall. You sought freedom, like all of us who have gone before.” And he was about to join them. Kruger swallowed his tears. “From the very first day I kicked my countrymen off the wall, from the day you brought your sister outside – those actions will haunt us until they’re repaid. Even after we die.”

Because right here, right now, as Grisha rose to his feet, Kruger knew _after_ existed, because he would see her again.

 

As Tiberius and Sally ate a scrumptious meal they’d prepared with Muriel – she’d taught them addition and subtraction with food, the best math lesson of their lives – and a numb Raina appeared at the Jaegers’ to hand over a stuffed pony, food, and kindness, because it was the _one_ act of resistance she had, and Dieter wept in his office, the bell chimed above a dingy tavern in Alexandria district.

“Whiskey?” greeted the bartender.

“Water, please,” said a calm, plain woman he hadn’t seen around before. She’d already spent all her money on the ticket she clenched in her fists, the passage on a steamship to the north.

“Did you hear about the cult?” a barmaid whispered excitedly, pleased to have female company. “They burned down all the records!”

“And the ship is now late to return,” the bartender added excitedly. “Looks like those titan pests had one more trick up their sleeves. No one will be able to tell what happened.”

“No one wants to; they’re all focused on Gross anyhow,” said the maid. “Good, if you ask me. Bad Marleyans make Eldians look sympathetic.”

“They burned all the records?” Alma’s eyes widened. Could she – no –

She looked at the ticket in her hands. If she took care to avoid the Jaegers, she could return. They could rebuild.

Eldians could not forget their value. Her children would see their people rise.

 

“Have a family,” said Kruger as he syringed out the serum. Grisha had the other vial he’d taken, for whomever he’d choose next, thirteen years from now.

“Pardon me?”

“When you live within the walls, have a family.”

“I can’t betray Dina!”

This doctor was stubborn. He was glad. “Your wife, your children…find someone to love, Grisha. And then take that love and expand it to every person within your town. If you can’t do that, the same story will repeat. The same mistakes.”

He heard Ilona’s voice in the wind as he spoke. She’d taught him everything he knew about love. Now that Grisha was gorged on hate, someone within the walls could show Grisha the power of love.

“Mikasa and Armin…if you want to save them, you have to complete that mission,” Kruger said.

“Mikasa? Armin? Who are they?” Grisha glanced at the man behind him. Did titan powers render one insane?

“Huh?” Kruger blinked. “I – I don’t know whose memories these are.”

“Oh.” Grisha’s expression was something akin to pity.

“You’ll find memories mostly come in dreams.” Shaking off his lapse, Kruger walked up to Grisha and pressed the needle against his neck. “By the way, I never thanked you.”

“For this mission?”

“No. For helping my wife. You may know her as Ilona Minsk.”

Grisha’s mouth fell open.

“It’s important you know she wasn’t playing you as a spy. Every kindness of hers was genuine. She married me despite that.” Kruger shrugged. “I imagine she will find a way to help your son, too. Do not despair.”

“How – how – ” Suddenly, Dina made sense to Grisha. And Zeke, Zeke would not be alone. His son had hope. Tears filled Grisha’s eyes. “Thank you.”

“If I’ve said anything of worth here, it probably stems from her.” Kruger closed his eyes for a moment.

He slid the needle in and kicked Grisha off the wall as he had so many times before. He felt the explosion, the heat, for the last time.

The stocky titan glowered up at him, the one human in sight.

He had to move before he stopped believing again.

Kruger stepped off the wall and collapsed on the sand below. He waited a mere second before fingers wrapped around his torso.

As the titan’s paw lifted him towards the sun, Eren Kruger saw little of the world before them. All he saw was Ilona, smiling the same knowing smile she’d given him the night they met.

 _You shouldn’t be here already_ , he thought, as pressure crushed his skull.

 _I told you I’d see you again_ , she said, grasping his fingers and pulling him out of whatever weighed him down. _You’re home._

 

 

**Thank you SO much for reading. <3 **

**…and yes, the stuffed pony is a wink to the highly hilarious ”Zeke’s Pony” meme on Tumblr, which I think was started by the blog leapingtitan. I meant it as an honor, so please don’t sue me? ;)**


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